


Blind, But Now

by aperplexingpuzzle



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Anxiety, Blind Character, Blindness, M/M, Selectively Mute Link, Slow Burn, rating will not change though, will add other tags as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aperplexingpuzzle/pseuds/aperplexingpuzzle
Summary: Trapped on the surface after dark, Link has an encounter with Ghirahim that he doesn't understand, with consequences that neither of them saw coming. Blind!Link AU. Posted originally to ff.net - see notes for details. In-progress.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If this story looks familiar, it's because I posted this to ff.net as a one-shot a couple years back and recently decided to continue it. It's not quite finished on ff.net, but I've decided to clean it up a bit and post it to ao3 as well because I think a good chunk of the fandom only exists here. I'll be adding chapters here as I get them edited until it's all caught up, and then I'll start updating both accounts together (though I think I'm only a couple chapters away from the end now).
> 
> The pacing on this story is kind of weird because it started as a one-shot, which is kind of like starting a story in the middle, but people have seemed to enjoy it anyway, so here it is!

Link trudged wearily across the damp forest terrain, repressing a wince at every _squelch_ announcing his presence through the early evening air. Although the Water Dragon had finally deigned to drain the forest, it was still not what Link would call 'dry'. The muddy earth sucked and pulled at each step, his tunic still dripped with water, and each monster destroyed by the flood had been replaced by a hundred buzzing insects. Even the air was moist, clinging to his skin and coating his mouth with the sticky taste of decay. Still, the flood must have done its job. According to Fi, there was an 87% decrease in monsters, and a 95% chance of sleeping uninterrupted through the night if they found a decent camping place. Link would have much preferred a warm bed in Skyloft to a night hunched in a tree, but retrieving the Water Dragon's portion of the Song of the Hero had taken longer than expected. At this rate he wouldn't make it to the sky until dark, and Loftwings were notorious for their terrible night vision. He was stranded after a hard day's work without so much as cold soup for supper. It felt like insult added to injury.

He slapped at a mosquito on his neck in irritation, and nearly fell on his face when the mud sucked greedily at his boot. It wasn't that he blamed the Water Dragon for doubting him—not exactly, not when the same doubts crossed his mind daily—but it still rankled that she in particular forced him to prove the fact over and over with her menial tasks, refusing to accept that the goddess might have chosen a blind hero.  _Miserable old—_

"Master." His sword chimed gently, pulsing in his hand, and Link paused, wiping damp sweat from his face.

"Yeah?"

"I sense a tree nearby, fifty paces to your left." Fi's voice was sweet and musical as always, but carried no hint of emotion. "It is tall and wide, with a sturdy branch halfway up that would make a suitable resting place. I sense no monsters in the immediate area, and thus recommend sleeping here for the night, as returning to Skyloft is no longer a viable option."

Another night in a tree it was. Link sighed, turning to his left and holding out his sword expectantly. "Lead the way."

The sword didn't pull him. It wasn't capable of moving without his direction, any more than it could fight his enemies for him. Instead it vibrated in his hands, barely perceptible when he chose the correct path but stronger when he went astray, and he interpreted those vibrations. A strange process, but they'd perfected it to the point that it worked seamlessly. He and Fi had even worked out similar signals to guide his way in battle, useful for facing opponents that required greater accuracy and finesse than even his sharpened instincts could match. With the Master Sword in hand and Fi at his side, Link was far from helpless, no matter what the Water Dragon might think. Of course, without Fi… the prospect was enough to give him nightmares.

Another chime from the sword made him stop, sheathing it behind his back and reaching out in front of him until his fingers met rough bark. Although he tried to avoid sleeping on the surface when possible, it had happened often enough that he'd worked out a routine. Methodically, he worked his way around the tree, getting a feel for its size and texture. He guessed that it was about as wide as he was tall, which meant he'd be climbing quite a distance to reach the halfway mark. With a wry smile, he grabbed a branch and pulled himself up, making his way from handhold to handhold with only occasional guidance from Fi. At least they had trees in Skyloft, if not quite so large, and he'd been climbing since he was three.

When he finally reached the branch Fi had chosen as a resting place, he felt it out carefully, mapping its size and shape in his mind. It was long and sturdy, barely bending under his weight. As usual, Fi had chosen well. Next, he felt at the tree's trunk until he found a short, sturdy knot of a branch within arm's reach that seemed capable of hanging his supplies. His shield and pack were discarded and hung with a grateful shrug of his shoulders, followed more reluctantly by his scabbarded sword. He would have kept it on him at all times if possible, but it had only taken one night of uncomfortable half-sleep with the hilt poking into his back to convince him to relent.

Undoing the leather pouch Fledge had given him what seemed like an age ago, Link ran a finger along the specially-marked cork stoppers of his small bottle collection, hefting each in turn. He frowned as he came across one that seemed unusually light, only a quarter full at most.

"Remind me to pick up some red potion at the bazaar tomorrow," he told Fi as he refastened his pouch and setting it aside, only absently noting the 'Yes, master,' she gave in reply. He'd intended to set out for Eldin Volcano as soon as possible, but he knew better than to go exploring without a good supply of potions—and breakfast. If he left early, he'd still have the whole afternoon to start his search for the Fire Dragon. No doubt Luv would be startled to see him back so soon, but with each attempt at freedom, the sealed abomination of the demon king grew more difficult—and painful—to subdue. Even with Groose's help, it was only a matter of time before—

A sudden, foreign weight settled beside him on the branch, and Fi's sharp chime of warning cut off as the branch holding his supplies broke with a snap. Raising his head in alarm, Link could do nothing but listen to the crash of his belongings through the tree grow fainter, until even that was gone. The silence stretched as what had happened slowly sunk in.  _Fi._ If she hadn't appeared already, she must be out of range. He was alone, disarmed and defenseless. Worse, he realized as the branch he was on shifted, he was _not_ alone.

Link froze as small vibrations shook the branch, suppressing his sudden panic with a deep, measured breath. Footsteps. The creature inhabiting the branch was coming closer. Backing slowly down the branch until his back met the trunk, he wracked his mind for a creature he'd met in the forest capable of climbing trees or flying. The weight felt too heavy to be a crow. Fi had claimed not to sense any monsters in the area, so… Link sighed, running a hand through bangs that still hadn't dried properly. Of course. The flood must have driven at least a couple Kikwi into the trees for safety. One must have fallen down from a higher branch, knocking his supplies off in the process. Just his luck tonight.

"Hello?" he called, reaching an open hand out in a placating gesture. Even a startled Kikwi could be dangerous if it sent him plummeting, and it would take more than an almost empty bottle of potion to mend a broken bone. "Who's there? Do you need help?"

A delighted chuckle came in response, halting his hand mid-motion.

"What a generous offer, sky child! Yes, I do believe you are just the hero I need."

Horror coursed through him, the muggy sweat on his brow seeming to freeze all at once.  _Ghirahim_. Unbidden, his last encounter with the Demon Lord spun up from the recesses of his mind. Had it been two weeks since Ghirahim's furious last words to him? More?

He didn't need Fi's percentages to know how this would end up, even if she had been around to give them. Blind and alone, stuck up a tree without a weapon… his best case scenario was that Ghirahim would choose to kill him quickly, and even that seemed unlikely if Ghirahim still intended to pull the location of the second gate of time out of him. No, his death would be slow, if it came at all.

"I understand that my presence can be breathtaking, but I need you to breathe." Ghirahim laughed, and Link realized that his breath was caught somewhere in his throat. A smooth, cool hand touched the back of his clammy neck, and he shuddered uncontrollably. "Breathe, Link."

He did, a rough intake of air that he instantly choked on. Coughing, he doubled over, noticing vaguely through his panicked haze that the hand on his neck followed him down, steadying his balance on the branch. His whole face burned with anger, and with shame. If only he could fight, if only he could  _see!_  It wasn't fair to have come so close, only to be taken off guard so easily. His face twisted, thinking of Zelda still asleep in the prison of her own creation. Who would keep back the Imprisoned now? The Water Dragon had been right to doubt him. Groose had been right to laugh. Someone else would have to take up the fallen mantle of the Hero, because he'd failed.

_Zelda, I'm sorry_ _…_

"What a precarious perch to choose as a nest," Ghirahim said, for all the world as if Link's life wasn't crumbling to pieces. "You'll forgive me for taking the opportunity to separate you from your sword. It was the only way to ensure a civil conversation between the two of us—just the two of us," he added, the curl of a sneer entering his voice. "I assure you, your…  _companion_  will be returned in due time."

 _What?_ Disbelief welled up inside him, along with a thousand burning questions that itched to escape. However, as always seemed to happen around Ghirahim, the words became mired in his throat and refused to push past his lips. He settled instead on assuming what he hoped was a skeptical frown, craning his neck away from the intrusive touch.

"You doubt my word?" Ghirahim laughed, but the sound quickly turned into a snarl, his fingers digging painfully into Link's neck despite his feeble attempts to shake him off. "Or perhaps you think that someone of my position must now stoop to cornering blind, defenseless children in trees. I may have twice allowed you to escape with your life— _allowed,_  I say—but do not think that I could not  _end it_  in a second if I so desired."

Link said nothing, waiting in confused silence until the demon's agitated breathing softened and his fingers loosened their grip. It made no sense, but… a small bubble of hope rose at the thought that maybe this wasn't the end of everything after all. Of course, "in due time" could mean almost anything. He couldn't trust Ghirahim as far as he could see, whatever he said. Still, that tiny hope burned…

"Ahh, but here I am, letting my anger run away with me again," Ghirahim sighed, stroking his fingers softly over Link's neck as if in apology. The action was almost as unnerving as the pain. It reminded Link of someone attempting to soothe a panicking Remlit. "What can I say? You inspire a full gamut of emotions in me, Link. If only your goddess did not inspire such foolhardy loyalty in you. If only you did not insist on stumbling beneath my feet at the most inopportune moments…"

He trailed off, and a strange silence descended between them that might have been companionable if he'd been with anyone else. Link's fingers tapped nervously against his thigh before he could stop them. He felt taut, stretched almost to the breaking point. In his experience, Ghirahim was quite adept at holding lengthy conversations by himself with no input from Link at all. What was he doing? Why was he here?

"Well," Ghirahim said finally, and Link's ears twitched in surprise. "That's beside the point, isn't it? I came here for a purpose after all, and if I leave you to quiver here any longer, you'll shake yourself to jelly."

Link's face twisted in indignation—he was not quivering!—but he was distracted by a sudden flurry of metallic  _'clinks'_ as Ghirahim's weight disappeared from the branch. His startled relief was cut short as he reappeared, closer this time— _much_ closer. Two hands wrapped around his own, and he jerked away instinctively, only for his back to hit rough bark. He was, quite literally, cornered.

"Self preservation," Ghirahim admonished, working his fingers beneath the leather of Link's gloves. Removing them, Link realized with a start. "You've never shown an aptitude for it in the past, but I must warn you that you are quite the proficient climber. A fall from this height would be… unpleasant. For you." Link craned his head back at the breath of a light chuckle against his face, and received a flick on the cheek for his effort. "I myself rather enjoy the sounds you make when you're in pain."

Ghirahim's fingers were thin and deft, and before long Link's gloves and gauntlets had been tossed aside, his wrists held firm in surprisingly strong hands. A thumb brushed ever so lightly across his palm, and he shivered at the touch.

"Sensitive," Ghirahim murmured with satisfaction. "Understandable, I suppose. I was certainly taken aback at learning of your—shall we say infirmity?—when last we met. It was quite the shock, I must admit! To think you managed to keep such a secret for so long…"

He had not kept it on purpose. Their first "battle" at Skyview Temple had barely deserved the name, with only a sharp warning from Fi and quick reflexes with the shield saving him from being impaled on his own sword. Even after he'd managed some semblance of competence in their duel—only because the demon was toying with him, he was sure—Ghirahim had been gleeful to point out Link's utter dependence on his sword. It hadn't even occurred to him then that Ghirahim didn't know. But later, at the Fire Sanctuary…

" _Enough of this foolishness_ _…"_

_Link crouched, sword at the ready, but he could tell from the strain in the other's voice, the quiet rasping of pained breaths, that his last strike had been the finishing blow. Their battle was over_ _… for now. Not that he dared let his guard down while the demon's dark presence pervaded the room, nearly as suffocating to Link's senses as the ever oppressive heat. When facing Ghirahim, anything was possible, and the next attack could come from anywhere. The ease with which he always managed to sneak up on Link was enough to make him shiver, despite the heat._

" _I am Ghirahim, Demon Lord! It shouldn't matter how powerful your sword is, you are still nothing_ _… Not just a human… A human child! And yet you prevail!"_

_He scowled. Of course. It always came back to his sword. He may have been dependent on Fi's help, but he'd still learned since the last time they met. Ghirahim had expended much more of his effort in this battle than before, Link was sure, and he still had not managed to subdue him. At the very least, he was no longer someone to be toyed with._

" _You filthy scamp!" The sudden rage in Ghirahim's voice made his ears stand up, and his grip on his sword tightened. There was something unstable in it now, something that set him on edge. "You disrespectful brat! LOOK AT ME when I'm speaking to you!"_

Look at me when…  _Confused realization crashed over him, and the tip of his sword fell almost to the ground as he stood up straight._

" _I_ _… can't." He was so surprised, the words slipped out without thought—the first words he'd ever said to him. Concentrating, he turned his head to where he thought Ghirahim's eyes must be in relation to his voice. In this strange land of glowing heat, he could make out nothing but shadows._

" _You can't?" Ghirahim spat out. "What do you mean you—"_

_He cut off in sudden comprehension. The air between them quivered as a dawning realization came over them both, humming and warping as it did whenever Ghirahim was particularly furious. Link's heart sank. He hadn't known._

" _You can't," he said again, and his voice could have frozen the heart of the volcano. "You_ _… Boy, you have awakened a wrath that will burn for eons! I swear to you, whatever it takes, I_ will _drag you into an eternity of torment."_

_The promise came out as a hiss. Even later, when the air had lightened with Ghirahim's departure and the sacred flame retrieved, the chill of it remained in his heart._

"Of course, you can imagine how very irritating this affair has been for me," Ghirahim continued, and Link came immediately back to the present, stunned.

_What?_

"All that effort spent on presentation, all for naught!" Ghirahim sighed dramatically, the breath of it ruffling Link's hair. "You may not know it, Link, but appearances are everything. In truth, I once despaired over your continuing lack of respect, but now I understand completely. I had simply failed to make the impression I thought I had." He leaned forward until their foreheads touched, his smooth skin cold against Link's sweaty brow. "Allow me to remedy that failure."

 _He's upset that I didn't_ _… appreciate him?_ It was too much. He was too close, the strange metallic scent of him overpowering, and Link still didn't understand what he wanted. Straining, he tried to make the words come out. He'd spoken to Ghirahim once—twice even, if tonight counted. He could do it again.

"I…" he managed finally, hating the way his voice shook. "I don't… understand…"

Ghirahim shushed him, moving Link's hands to rest against his face, and the rest of the words evaporated. He had thought Ghirahim's skin seemed smooth against him before, but with the more accurate sensitivity of his hands it felt almost unnaturally polished, like river rock, and cooler than human skin would be. Unlike stone, though, there was the slightest amount of give to his skin to prove that he was no statue—he was alive. Leaning back to allow better access, Ghirahim guided Link's hands carefully across his features, pausing every now and then so Link could finger the strange diamond seemingly etched into one of his cheeks, or the hard ridge where eyebrows should have been. Not that Ghirahim lacked for hair—a thin curtain of it swept across one side of his face, sleek and straight. The texture was so unlike his own rough tangles or even Zelda's well cared for hair that Link ran fascinated fingers through it, not noticing when Ghirahim's hands slipped away from his wrists and he was left to explore on his own.

Link's heart thudded hard in his chest, but not out of fear. He couldn't stop himself from tracing the angle of the other man's jaw, fingering the diamond-shaped gem that dangled from one ear, running his hands over the curves of those ears. He stopped in surprise at finding them mismatched—one was pointed like his own, while the other felt torn as if from a long-ago injury—but Ghirahim smoothly grabbed his wrists once more and led them away, resting Link's hands on his shoulders for just a moment before guiding them along hard, muscular arms.

"Lovely, aren't they?" Ghirahim said, and Link jerked, the strange spell broken along with the silence. Instinctively, he tried to pull his hands away, but the other's grip was firm. "You'll find the supple skin of my arms tougher than any armor. Doesn't their shape just leave you… breathless?" Strong fingers intertwined with his own, and Link could see how his sword might have failed to pierce that smooth, impenetrable skin.

Breath came rapidly now as his hands were led inward, towards Ghirahim's chest. A warm, heavy cloak was draped across it, fastened with a long metal chain. Link stroked it wonderingly—he'd never felt its like in Skyloft—yet even as he tried to grab a fistful of soft fabric, it disappeared from his hands with a metallic sigh. His brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask—if he'd been able to ask—his hands were instead pressed flat against Ghirahim's skin. It wasn't all skin, he realized. A thin layer of fabric stretched itself across some areas, but was mysteriously absent from others. After fingering the edges of fabric, Link soon realized that it too was cut to resemble a diamond. Even through the garment, whatever it was—Link couldn't imagine a practical purpose to the thing—his muscles were hard and defined, solid ridges across an unnaturally solid form. No heartbeat met his trembling fingers.

"Behold," Ghirahim whispered. "Such…  _beauty_. Such an exquisite physique. Such stunning features."

Link's hands shook. He was light-headed, breathing too fast but unable to make himself stop. Whatever Ghirahim said about his appearance, surely that paled compared to this pure  _sensation_. His hands moved lower, feeling the sash across his waist, the smooth diamond nestled at his side. Link's whole body trembled. Then Ghirahim started to lead his hands down again, down along slender hips, and it was too much.

" _Ghirahim_." The name slipped out of him like a plea, and he looked up to where Ghirahim's eyes must be, trying to meet his gaze. The hands stopped, and after an infinite moment of anticipation, disappeared from his wrists altogether.

"Yes," he said softly, drawing himself up, his weight shifting on the branch. "Perhaps that is enough for one meeting. I think I've made my point… quite thoroughly."

The metallic chime of Ghirahim's departure was familiar now, and Link slumped back against the tree in a daze, taking what felt like his first full breath in days. He barely stirred when Ghirahim's weight reappeared seconds later, further along the branch. It wasn't as if he'd expected him to leave just yet anyway.

"I believe… this accomplishes my goal for the evening." He sounded disconcerted for once, as if something had happened that even he was unsure of. "I once thought you would scurry to safety like any normal creature who values his own life, but now I think this is not the case. No, you are far too  _brave_  for that. Pah!" he growled, making it clear that he didn't mean the word as a compliment. "How incredibly vexing."

He paused as if waiting for a response, but Link had none. He was exhausted, yet his senses buzzed on high alert as his mind spun in frenzied circles. His skin itched fiercely wherever Ghirahim had touched him. The feel of Ghirahim was thick on his fingers, the scent caught in his nose. Had he ever touched anyone like… that? His parents, maybe, but he couldn't remember his parents. Zelda? No, not Zelda, not like that.

"Do not think my mercy extends beyond tonight," Ghirahim said finally, his weight shifting irritably on the branch. "Too much work has gone into this to allow your blundering to ruin things now. If you must continue on this path… one of us will bleed by the end of it, Link, and I do not bleed."

With a snap of his fingers, he was gone, and as the seconds stretched on, Link realized that this time he'd left for good. A familiar weight fell into his lap, and he stirred, feeling it carefully with his hands just to make sure.

"Fi?" he whispered, and a soft chime came in response.

"Master." Her musical voice was almost the same monotone as always, though he thought he caught a hint of… worry? Relief? But then, he might have imagined it. "Forgive me for allowing myself to be separated from you. I am pleased to find you physically unharmed, but concerned by your apparent state of mental and emotional upheaval. How may I best assist you, master?"

"Stay," he said quickly, clutching the sword to his chest. "Please… can you stay?"

"Of course." Her familiar weight settled beside him, a much more comforting presence than Ghirahim's had been. He tried to put off the thought that it was somehow colder, too. "Friendly company is an effective method of calming an anxious mind. I will stay."

Ghirahim had neglected to return the rest of his items, which meant there was nothing for it but to climb back down and retrieve them. Even after he'd gathered them all up, scaled the tree once more, and settled down for the night, he found that he had no desire to let go of his sword ever again. Instead, he spent the night planning with Fi, theorizing on the locations of the dragons and trying to ignore the feel of Ghirahim still pressed into his skin. His imagined laughter seemed to rise on the breeze, and Link wondered if the demon still watched him, somewhere in the distance. It seemed strange suddenly that Ghirahim had neglected to even mention the Gate of Time. Had he come up with some other plan to reach Zelda? The night dragged on in useless wondering.

When the sun finally rose, he was secretly grateful to have avoided sleep for at least one night. A stamina potion would set him right, and soon he'd be exploring the volcano, putting some distance between himself and thoughts of Ghirahim—a very great distance, if he could manage it.

He feared the nightmares that would come... but he also feared his dreams might be something else entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This is still the blind!Link AU, but the events of this chapter take place BEFORE the events of the previous chapter, which means that Ghirahim is still a bit clueless. Sorry about this random chapter coming out of chronological order. I had originally envisioned this project as a series of loosely connected one-shots, so now that it's an actual story this feels especially awkward, but I liked it enough that I didn't really want to delete it altogether. The timeline returns to normal after this.

It was late afternoon, the low sun catching the mountain's smoky haze in an unnaturally orange glow, when a shimmering slash of light broke the tenuous calm of Eldin Volcano. The flash of motion that rent the air was almost too quick to see, though it left the impression of smooth metal and glittering diamonds and the sound of steel unsheathing itself. Before the heavy dust could eddy up in surprise, the light was gone, replaced by a tall pale figure wrapped in an extravagant red cloak.

The demon lord scowled, noting the volcanic heat that scorched his skin and dismissing it, just another irritating speck in the vast array of irritation that had filled these trying weeks. Too long had passed since the spirit maiden had slipped through his fingers and into the past, with too little to show for it. Long days were spent seeking out ancient murals in long forgotten temples, while nights had him poring over obscure texts and manuscripts, all in an attempt to find any connection between this decaying land and the ancient glory of its past that might prove useful. All of these efforts, and still he'd found nothing! The frustration was almost too great to bear!

Still, he reminded himself, this was all just a temporary setback. The infuriating girl might have escaped him for now, but it couldn't last forever. The goddess’s dog would not have spirited her away to the past only to leave her trapped there, separated from the needs of the present and her precious little… _hero_ . There had to be _something_ —another gate of time, perhaps? But all of his frantic searching had been in vain. If… if there truly was no way to reach the spirit maiden…

With great difficulty, Ghirahim tamped down on the furious despair that rose within him at the prospect. No. No, that scenario did not bear contemplating. He _would_ find her, and take her, and the glorious might of the demon king would wield his true form once more.

It was only a slight stretch to say that this was what brought him here now.

Dust crunched against pavement as he stepped quickly behind a broken column to assess his surroundings. His agenda here was to observe and not be seen—not a difficult goal by any means as his quarry was remarkably unobservant. The number of times Ghirahim had managed to watch him from a distance… but still, it wouldn't do to be cocky.

At least the boy was easily located, which Ghirahim had halfway worried would not be the case. Link's presence at the edge of his senses, normally so strong and vibrant, felt strangely diluted—a peculiarity that Ghirahim had noticed once or twice before and finally decided to investigate. The demon's curiosity was heightened by the peculiar position the sky child had arranged himself in: bent over on one knee with his sword thrust into the stone as if it were soft soil and intricate floral patterns spiraling around him, he seemed entirely unconscious of his surroundings. Taking a few tentative steps forward, Ghirahim felt the beginnings of the itch across his skin that indicated divine protection. Belatedly, he realized how quiet the mountain air had become, with no monsters or malicious creatures nearby. Whatever was happening here, there were forces at work that did not want it disturbed.

Still, Ghirahim was hardly your everyday Moblin. Confident now that the boy would not see him, Ghirahim walked across the bridge to where Link was slumped over, ignoring the uncomfortable stirring of the Goddess's power around him as it grew in intensity. He doubted he would be able to touch the boy, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to puzzle out Link's purpose in coming here. From the little that Ghirahim had managed to see, the sky child had been just as busy as he was, flitting from place to place on that overgrown bird of his. He had assumed that the boy and his sword were running around as blindly as he was, but he wondered now if Link was privy to more information than he had initially guessed.

Which, of course, made it his _responsibility_ to keep an eye on Link and find out whether he knew anything worthwhile. The fact that Ghirahim rather enjoyed keeping an eye on him… well, that was just an added bonus, wasn't it?

Ghirahim stopped just short of the sky child when the uncomfortable buzz on his skin became almost too much to handle, placing a hand on his hip and looking down with unfeigned interest. This so-called "Hero of the Goddess", barely more than a child and a human at that, never ceased to intrigue him, even as he insisted on making himself a nuisance. Even now, with his head bowed forward in… sleep? Unconsciousness? What could be happening behind those closed eyes? Even with that, those familiar lines of defiance were etched vividly across his expression. As Ghirahim watched, a single shudder ran through the boy's body, and his lips curled apart in a scowl of desperate determination. The demon's tongue flicked out from between his own lips. How fascinating. And still, the child felt so far away. It made no sense. Link's body was right here… so where was his spirit? His mind?

The sound of chimes startled him out of his reverie, and a graceful blue figure twirled into existence to float beside the boy. Ghirahim took an involuntary step back before catching himself, transforming the movement as best he could into a casual flourish. He surveyed the new arrival with mild distaste. Although he knew her as Link's weapon and constant companion, he had only caught glimpses of her until now.

"Fi."

"Ghirahim." Her voice was surprisingly toneless. He would have expected the Goddess to imbue her servant with a little more warmth. "You should not be here."

"Is that so?" He tossed his hair, allowing a bland smile to arrange itself on his face. "And yet, here I am. Pity your goddess never saw fit to grant you the power to stop me, hmm?"

"You should not be here," Fi repeated, her stern face unaltered. "I suggest you leave immediately."

"Suggestion noted," he said dryly. The sky child still showed no sign of noticing his presence. He had not intended to be drawn into confrontation today, but from his understanding, this creature was powerless to act without her master's hand guiding her—inferior, of course, to a weapon such as himself. Perhaps she could clear up this little mystery. "Just tell me where the hero’s spirit has wandered off to, and I will happily be on my way. There is magic at work here that I do not understand, and believe me when I say this is an uncomfortably strange position for me.”

"That is none of your concern. I suggest you leave immediately."

Ghirahim's eyelid twitched. It was hard to imagine that _this_ was the hero's chosen companion, though he supposed they did share a certain… obtuseness.

"You are in no position to deny my questions," he said irritably, gesturing towards the kneeling boy beside her with an elegant gloved hand. "Not with your _master_ so utterly vulnerable. I'll admit that I am still a bit cross with him, but I might allow him to stumble along for now if you'll indulge my idle curiosity."

"My master is protected from your interference," Fi responded. "You cannot touch his physical form, and his spirit has gone where you cannot follow."

"For now," Ghirahim parried, lips curling. She was right, of course. The Goddess's essence on his skin grew more uncomfortable by the second. "But what of when he wakes?"

A desperate snarl erupted from the hero's lips, punctuating his words. The two of them turned to stare at him, Fi impassive, Ghirahim intrigued. Sweat streamed down Link's face as he panted, eyes still closed. His hands gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly that they shook.

"I have detected your presence nearby before," Fi said suddenly, and Ghirahim grinned to himself. If cool chimes could sound uncertain, they did now. "Multiple times. But never with the intent to do immediate harm." She hesitated, then added, "I do not sense such an intent in you now."

"Oh?" Ghirahim spread his arms wide, the picture of innocence. "You are correct. I have only ever wished to observe. I had not even meant to make my presence known to the boy, though at that, I suppose, I have failed." It had never occurred to him that Link's companion would have powers similar to his own, though of course that seemed foolish in hindsight.

"I have never made your presence known to my master," Fi said, to Ghirahim's surprise. She didn't sound even remotely guilty. "As you have posed no immediate threat, I determined that knowledge of your surveillance would be detrimental to my master's well-being. Link's success in his quest is the entirety of my mission."

"How very… analytical of you," Ghirahim said, smirking. What a pity. The image of Link constantly looking over his shoulder in fear of Ghirahim's presence made an appealing picture. Perhaps he should take a more active hand in making himself known.

Fear touched the hero's face now, and Ghirahim drank it in, though it was so much sweeter when he himself was the cause.

"Where is he now?" Ghirahim asked again, and could almost hear the gears of her mind at work, choosing her words carefully. She would not tell him anything that might lead him to the spirit maiden, or endanger her master's quest… not on purpose, at least.

"His spirit fights in a... spiritual realm. It is place prepared where only he can reach."

"Does it?" Ghirahim considered this. He had never heard of its like, but it must be the work of the goddess. That was the only explanation for all of this filthy… _divinity_. "Then who does he fight? My master could have no enemies for him there."

This time, Fi remained silent, and a delicious thought occurred to Ghirahim. A deep chuckle bubbled up from out of him, low and delighted.

"It is not my master who he fights! It is your _goddess_! Ahhh…" Ghirahim shook his head, wiping an eye ostentatiously. "What amazing gratitude you show your chosen hero! Shall I have my creatures stand back and allow yours to finish the poor boy off?"

"The trials of the hero are necessary for his growth, but they will not harm him. His form remains safe in the physical realm."

Her flat voice and expression were starting to annoy him. How tiresome. All of his best taunts and jabs fell flat on her. Not like Link, who was all fire and defiance, so easy to poke and prod… what must it be like for him, to be constantly saddled with her dreary presence?

"I see," he said, a sarcastic bite creeping into his words. "Well, far be it from me to question the actions of a loving goddess toward her devoted subjects. I'm sure it is only her perfect _wisdom_ that demands such pointless sacrifice from the one she calls hero."

"No man who would not sacrifice all that he has could ever have the power necessary to save the world." Perhaps he'd finally gotten a rise out of her. Fi's voice… passion was too strong a word to describe it, but it smoldered with cool fire. Barely. "What of your master, Ghirahim? You state your loyalty to him, yet I detect your conflict. Will your master feel half so much for the acts you have done in his service? Will he value your sacrifice, should you succeed? From what I understand of Demise, I predict an 85% probability that he will not."

The flame of Ghirahim's temper ignited suddenly, weeks of frustration hitting a boiling point, and white hot rage consumed him.

"There is no conflict in me!" Ghirahim spat, stepping forward as his own dark energies wavered and writhed, clashing with the divine essence of the air around them. "When my master returns, he will wield me with a power befitting my blade! You think your hero is a man? He is a child compared to the forces of might surrounding him, forces that will sweep him away! The goddess herself at the height of her power could not fully conquer my master! What hope has any mere mortal of defeating him? What hope has Link?" With a final flare of fury, his dark energy waned, and he was forced to step back to keep from falling to his knees. The strength of his rage left him panting.

Fi stared at him, unwavering, her voice reduced once more to cool chimes. "You have met my master, Ghirahim. If anyone has a chance, it is Link, if only because he has the courage to try."

All at once, the anger flooded out of him, and Ghirahim laughed. This argument was ludicrous. His master's victory was already assured. The goddess was desperate, hiding in the past while she placed her final hope on a hopeless cause, but soon enough she and her hero would topple. It was a shame, in its way, though there was no helping it. The moment Link ceased his pointless striving, Ghirahim would certainly lose all interest in the boy… but still, a shame.

Ghirahim looked down at Link again, and blinked. The defiant lines had finally faded from his face, but what replaced it was too somber to be triumph. Around him, the air became less stifling, the divine protection receding as whatever strange works were afoot wound steadily to their conclusion.

"He… failed?" Ghirahim asked, surprised, but Fi shook her head.

"He was victorious." There was no joy in the statement, of course. "He simply delays his return. In the Silent Realm, his spirit is not bound by the… physical limitations that plague him here. It is both a blessing and a curse, for to return to the physical realm, he must willingly accept those limitations once more." Fi's voice lowered. "It is maybe the greatest trial he has been set, and I do not know whether the goddess intended it so or not."

“Physical limitations?” Fi glanced up at him, quick and cataloguing, and Ghirahim wished he had not spoken. Revealing his own ignorance was a mistake in itself, but he was more vexed by Fi’s unspoken implication that this was something he should already be aware of. The child kneeling before him seemed in perfectly good health. Was his own mortality really such a burden?

Link stirred, his face twisting with grief and… loss? Ghirahim was shocked to see a tear slip through his clenched eyes.

"My master will awaken soon. Unless you intend to confront him now, I suggest you leave." Fi stared at him, steady and without feeling. "Please."

Ghirahim left, of course, though not at her urging. It was never his intention to linger… but he did not go far.

Fi must have known that he hovered nearby, but he doubted that she'd be telling her master about it anytime soon. His mission to obtain information had been a mixed success, albeit a confusing one. The hero was obviously not as directionless as Ghirahim had assumed, but it was unclear whether these spiritual trials he faced would lead him to the spirit maiden. Perhaps there was a clue in his location? If memory served, there was an ancient sanctuary in this volcano somewhere that certainly bore investigating.

For the moment, however, Ghirahim simply listened.

He had imagined the hero's screams before, many times. Fulfilling his promise of pain to the boy was Ghirahim's favorite fantasy whenever the search for the spirit maiden became too frustrating to bear. He had imagined screams of terror, yells of rage, and yes, he had even imagined the tears of pain and humiliation he would inevitably shed. He had never imagined the soft, frustrated sobs of loss that echoed faintly over the mountain as the sun sank ever lower.

He stayed for a while, listening until Link finally called for his bird and took to the sky, thinking that perhaps the sound of it would cheer him up.

It didn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to chronological order again, which means this takes place directly after Chapter 1. Buckle up, Link.

Link leaned forward on his Loftwing, patting its neck and urging it to speed up. The bird obliged, tucking its wings and diving forward so fast that Link's teeth rattled, but it wasn’t enough. Worry gnawed at him, frustration heightened by a deep unease that he couldn’t shake. Once he had his boots on the ground, he’d be fine—Link always felt better with a goal to achieve, and searching for the Fire Dragon would keep his mind off… other things—but beginning that search was taking longer than he’d expected. Too long.

He _should_ have left the woods early that morning. Link had been on his way out when he stumbled across a cowering Kikwi and fell flat on his face in the still drying mud, though his annoyance had vanished quickly when the poor thing burst into tears. Oolo the Kikwi was distraught beyond comfort, so upset by the monsters and flooding that Link had eventually suggested bringing the creature back with him to Skyloft, only realizing as he said it what a perfect solution it was. After all, Professor Owlan was constantly moping over the lack of new plants to study in the sky, and Kikwis were plants. In a way. He thought.

He'd forgotten that bringing back Oolo meant calling in Scrapper, along with all that Scrapper entailed. Noticing Link’s impatience, the robot had taken twice as long bringing the Kikwi up as he should have, needling “muddy Master Shortpants” with disparaging remarks that wouldn't have bothered him so much if he'd had more sleep. In the end, both Owlan and Oolo had been ecstatic, if a bit bewildered by each other, but the whole affair had taken up his entire morning. By the time Link had washed, stocked up on potions and stumbled his way through an awkward conversation with Peatrice, it was early afternoon. That left him less than half a day to explore the volcano if he wanted to make it back before dark, which he fully intended to do. Link didn’t know if he’d ever spend another night on the surface if he could help it, not after Ghirahim… not after the night before.  
  
At least he’d remembered to pick up some stamina potion on his way out. The tart elixir had perked him up for now, but Link knew there was a mountain of exhaustion waiting to catch up with him when his head hit the pillow that night.  
  
"We are approaching Eldin Volcano," Fi's voice said in his ear, and he snapped to attention, reigning in his Loftwing with a light touch. "Prepare to make your descent."  
  
Unstrapping himself from the safety harness, Link checked to make sure his sailcloth was within easy reach, waiting for Fi's final signal before hurling himself off the Loftwing's back.  
  
With the wind whipping his hair in freefall, Link finally let loose an exhilarated laugh as some of his tension evaporated. He had never been afraid of heights, though growing up blind on an island in the sky he maybe should have been, and with Fi here to warn him of the approaching ground he felt almost carefree. Warm air rose to meet him, sulfurous and full of ash, and Link’s laughter became a coughing fit. Stomach spasming against the force of his fall, he pulled up his tunic to cover his mouth as best he could. The stinging air felt worse than usual, but it usually cleared by the time he reached the surface.

Link counted slowly to ten before deploying his sailcloth, giving himself plenty of time to steer his descent. Everywhere on the surface was dangerous, he'd found, but this mountain most of all. Falling into a lava pit was the last thing he—  
  
A strong gust of air pummeled him, hot to the point of scalding, and his entire body was jerked off its course. Link drew a sharp breath that he immediately regretted as hot ashy air stung his lungs, bringing tears to his eyes. Above the rush of wind, he could hear another sound—a low, ominous rumble emanating from the mountain itself that rose to a furious crescendo. He'd heard legends about this in Gaepora's tales of the surface, but could not have imagined their terrifying reality. The volcano below him was erupting.  
  
Another wave of air hit him, and another, furious winds pelting him with heat and debris.  
  
"Fi," he choked out, clinging to his sailcloth and praying that he even made it as far as the surface. "How far—"  
  
Something large struck his head, and Link was out. His grip loosened on the sailcloth, and he fell, still buffeted by small rocks and rushing air. Vaguely, he heard Fi's urgent ringing, but the sound of it spiraled away into terrible rumbling and distant, imagined laughter until there was nothing left but dark silence.  
  
Hours later Link awoke, sightless eyes fluttering open, and wondered why he wasn't dead.  
  
Rough dirt scraped against his cheek as he shifted, a pained hiss escaping through clenched teeth. His skin radiated heat, tender and sore and covered in burns despite his Fireshield Earrings, which he realized had probably saved him from being torched to a hero-shaped crisp. He could feel them in his ears still, pulsing weakly.

Grunting, Link brought a hand to his head, wincing at his own light touch and fighting down a wave of nausea. Blood matted his hair where the blow that knocked him out cold had struck, already sticky and congealing. That would need cleaning to avoid infection. Wadding up his hat, which by some twist of fate had survived the fall with him, Link pressed it gingerly against the wound to soak up the remaining blood. Sharp pain throbbed wherever he'd struck rock on the way down, which in his estimation must have been… everywhere.

Overall, he was hurt, but alive, which was a miracle in itself. Who knew how far he'd fallen?  
  
"Fi," he croaked, pausing to cough painfully. He didn't even recognize the rough sound of his own voice. His throat felt scarred from ash and heat. "Can't believe… we made it…"  
  
No response. His heart thudded once, twice, three times, a hammer in his ears.  
  
"…Fi?"  
  
Nothing. Gritting his teeth, Link pushed himself up on his elbows, slipping a shaky hand toward his pouch to retrieve one of his newly-stocked vials of potion. It took a few moments of fumbling to realize that both pouch and potions were gone. With growing dread, Link searched frantically for any of his equipment, and found nothing but singed tunic.  
  
Link heaved himself to his knees, feeling cautiously around for any fallen items. With luck, they had landed somewhere nearby. He found some dried up plants and scattered pots, all empty, but nothing that he recognized as his own. Crawling forward, still searching, Link's injured head thumped into something and he cried out in pain. Raising his hands to investigate, he found that he'd run headfirst into a crudely built wall curving in on itself—a circle, with him inside.  
  
That didn't bode well.  
  
Leaning heavily on the wall for support, he followed its curve, looking for an exit. Finally, his fingers found the end of the wall… and the beginning of bars. Heart sinking, he kept moving, shaking at the bars as he went to test their sturdiness. None of them budged an inch. He circled the whole place twice, just to be sure. This was a cell. A guarded cell, if the rough snorts of breath from outside were any indication. And he was trapped inside, injured, without potions or a weapon. Without Fi.  
  
For the second time in as many days, he felt his world crumbling.  
  
Stumbling towards the center of the cell, Link sat, taking long, deep breaths to calm the rising terror. He couldn’t fall prey to that again. Yesterday— _Was it yesterday? How long was I out?_ —he had faced the certainty of his own failure and panicked, defeating himself before Ghirahim even had the chance. The fact that things had turned out well didn't change that. He couldn't afford to do the same thing here, not with Zelda and the world depending on him.

Something itched on the back of his hand in reaction to that thought, but with his whole body burning, he hardly noticed. Strength poured into him from some hidden reservoir, and he nodded firmly. This could still be fixed. As long as he was breathing, there was still hope.

Unfortunately, trapped as he was, all he could really do was wait, and hope.

Something caught Link's attention then, and he froze. He could feel more than hear the ground beneath him rumbling, and he wondered wildly whether his cell would provide any cover if the volcano erupted again. But no—the vibrations were too small, too focused. They grew louder, followed by the crumbling of dirt, and then—

"Ta-DAH! I'm here to save the day!"  
  
Link's head whipped toward the source of the sound, blank eyes widening in surprise. He was taken so off-guard, it took him a moment to recognize the voice.  
  
"Heyyy! Long time no see, pal, for you more than me, eh?" The voice came closer, then stopped. "Huh? Come on, don't tell me ya forgot my ugly mug. It's me, Plats!"  
  
"I never saw your ugly mug a day in my life and you know it," Link found himself responding in a rasp, so relieved that he couldn't hold back a painful laugh. He liked the Mogmas. None of them had amazing eyesight—he'd been mistaken for a Bokoblin once just from the color of his tunic—so being blind around them felt pleasantly unremarkable. "It's good to hear your voice, though. But—what about the guard?" Link added, his own voice lowering.  
  
"Oof, you don't sound too good." Link heard Plats rummaging around, and a juicy bulb was placed in is hands. Link recognized it as one of the water plants native to Eldin, and he immediately pierced the skin with his teeth and drank, repressing a whimper as the water hit his throat. It stung more than he’d expected, but he was too parched to care. "You don't look so good, either. What, you mean that creep outside?" Plats snorted. "None of them monsters can hear worth a rupee, the way they blast those horns of theirs all day long. Can't see in the dark much, either. They're all quakin' in their boots, catapulting everything that moves and waitin' for the mountain to burst again. I think they'da scrammed by now if it weren't for you. You must be reeeal important to someone."  
  
"Maybe," Link mumbled, wiping his mouth and dropping the empty husk regretfully. The only person who came to mind was Ghirahim, but he couldn't imagine why the demon lord would allow him to leave the forest one day only to capture him on a volcano the next. Maybe it was time to stop assuming he understood any of his enemy’s actions. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Who, me?" Link could hear the Mogma rubbing his mitts together greedily. "I just heard a rumor that some bad guys were gettin' together on this mountain. Everyone knows that when bad guys get together, they'll be fightin' over some loot! Heh heh heh…"  
  
Link shook his head. Of course.  
  
"But what about you, eh?" Plats said. "Don't you gotta take care of your own business first? Haven't ya noticed? They swiped all your stuff!"  
  
"Yeah, I noticed," Link said, exasperated. "First thing I noticed, actually."  
  
"Yep. They shook you down good, pal! You're gonna want to get your stuff back soon before they carry it all off… but I can get you started," he added impishly.  
  
Link's brow furrowed as something light hit the ground in front of him. It couldn't be his sword, but maybe Plats had salvaged some of his potions, or…  
  
"My Mogma Mitts!" Link exclaimed, feeling the familiar fabric gloves with blades attached. This might be something he could work with. "How did you get these?"  
  
"I stole 'em!" Plats said proudly. "And as luck would have it, there's an old tunnel leading right out of this cell! Trust a creep not to notice a thing like that, eh?"  
  
Link nodded, his excitement growing. He'd have a hard time finding the Mogmas' warren of tunnels, not without Fi to point them out, but at least he could escape this room.  
  
"I don't know how to thank you," he said, but Plats just laughed.  
  
"Don't worry about it. Just get your stuff back from those creeps, ya hear?" Link thought he heard the Mogma scratching himself. "What're ya doin' around here, anyway?"  
  
"Well…" Link hesitated. He needed to get Fi back before anything else, but he still had another mission to complete, too. "I'm looking for the Fire Dragon. Any idea where he is?" If he could find the dragon, maybe he would help Link find his sword.

"A-a dragon?" Plats stammered, sounding skeptical. "Uhh, yeah… I heard a rumor that a big dragon-god lives in this mountain, but I don't really go in for those fantasy stories, ya know?"

"Sure," Link sighed. He'd just have to do this the hard way.

"Listen, it's time for me to tunnel out, but I'll keep an eye on ya, alright? And be careful once ya get outside. Those creeps are crawlin' all over the place."  
  
"Great." Link forced a smile. He'd deal with that obstacle when he came to it. "Thanks for everything, Plats. See you around."  
  
"No you won't," Plats said, his voice already muffled by dirt.  
  
Link was alone again, but having a course of action strengthened him, and he shoved aside his pain for later. He had a way to escape now, and even something resembling a plan: find the tunnel, escape through the tunnel, and then… improvise.  
  
"Good plan," he muttered, searching for the tell-tale mound marking the tunnel's entrance and trying not to dwell on the fact that he still had to find his sword on an active volcano that was swarming with enemies (and hopefully, somewhere, a dragon).  
  
The tunnel out was straight and easy to navigate, though the dirt scraped uncomfortably against his skin. Sooner than he expected, the space above his head cleared and he was digging his way out into… well, the goddess only knew.  
  
Tugging off his mitts and slipping them in his belt, Link stood up, ears twitching from listening so hard. The air here was still and stale, and his tentative footsteps echoed. A few more cautious steps and the ground beneath his feet sloped downward, packed and worn by use—a path, unless he was wildly mistaken. Link followed it to his right, picking his way carefully with ears still pricked to points. One direction seemed as good as another for now. Unless Plats appeared to guide him further, all he could think to do was wander the mountain until he came close enough that Fi could speak to him—a task so incredibly futile, he wanted to laugh.  
  
A warm breeze tickled his face, growing stronger, and he followed it, suppressing another cough as he emerged into what felt like open space. Here, the constant wind was hot and gritty, and stung whenever he blinked. He stopped, tearing a piece of fabric from his fraying tunic and wrapping it around his eyes for protection. He would have liked to cover his nose and mouth—the air stank of hot rock and sulfur—but he needed every available sense at his disposal. Somewhere out there, Bokoblins were keeping watch, though he couldn't hear them yet. Worse, he could just make out the telltale sound of low, steady bubbling. That meant lava, and he didn't have so much as a walking stick to check his path.  
  
The weight of the task ahead hit him again, and he felt a wave of doubt. All it would take was one misplaced step to doom both him and Zelda. Maybe he should go back and wait in the cave. The Bokoblins had to clear out eventually… but who could say how long that would take? And what were the odds that they'd leave his sword behind when they left? Worse, every passing moment was another chance for the imprisoned form of Demise to break free of his seal again. Acting now might lead to his death, but inaction would be the death of them all.  
  
Gritting his teeth, Link fell to his knees—easier to feel his path that way, with less chance of being seen—and started crawling forward. It wasn't dignified, but some things mattered more than dignity.  
  
Link had only gone about fifty feet when a low chime rang in his ears. He stopped, certain he was hearing things. He couldn't be this lucky.  
  
The note came again, still quiet but unmistakable this time, and hope flared up in him.  
  
"…Fi?" he said, and after a moment's pause another note rang in confirmation, low enough that it must have been for his ears alone. "Where are you? Are you nearby?"  
  
This time, two chimes rang. That probably meant no. Link deflated a little, but remained stubbornly hopeful. The fact that she could communicate at all was good news.  
  
"Can you talk?" Two chimes. The sound was duller than he was used to, like steel compared to crystal. Wherever Fi was, she must have been barely able to reach him.  
  
"But you can hear me." One chime. Obviously.

Link considered this. It opened up another option, but he was reluctant to take it.  
  
"Okay Fi, I'm safe for now, but I'm going to try to find you. If things go bad, you might need to call Scrapper and ask him to find help. Not yet, though." The robot himself would be a disaster, but if he could find Pipit or the other knights, they might be able to come find him. None of them had ever set foot on the surface, though, much less faced actual combat. "I don't want to drag anyone else into this."  
  
Fi chimed back impatiently, a flurry of notes that sounded insistent, and he frowned, trying to interpret.  
  
"Am I… missing something? If you’re too far to see me then—" He was cut off by a strong chime.  
  
"You… you can see me?" One chime.  
  
"How?" he asked, though of course she couldn't tell him. The discordant tinkling of notes that answered him managed to sound irritated, though Link didn't think Fi was capable of the emotion. He was just starting to realize how little he knew or understood of what Fi could do.  
  
"Sorry, stupid question," he said. One chime responded, and he laughed softly.  
  
"So… can you lead me to you?" A long pause followed, until Link started to worry that he'd lost her. Then… one chime. He let out a long, slow breath.  
  
"Will I have to pass the guards?" One chime.  
  
"And the lava." Not a question, but he still received a very emphatic chime.  
  
"Okay, then." Nodding, Link stood up, tightening the cloth around his eyes and steeling himself for the task ahead which had just become exponentially more possible. "Let's do this."  
  
Traversing an active volcano with a guide who couldn't speak was complicated, to say the least. At the start, Link hummed out five different notes for Fi to match, assigning a different direction to each: forward, backward, left, right, and stop. It was a brutally simple set of commands that left no room for subtleties like "you're coming up on a bridge", or "stairs ahead", or "I am leading you off a ledge." Fi did her best to indicate these things nonverbally, trilling in his ear to let him know that an obstacle ahead required extra caution. Bridges he crossed on hands and knees, not trusting his balance on such uneven footing, and stairways were taken with painstaking slowness. With each passing second he waited anxiously for the volcano to erupt again, but he didn't dare go any faster.  
  
Only once did Fi slip up, neglecting somehow to warn him of a small ledge directly in his path, and he tumbled painfully down the short drop. It was too shallow in the end to do more than bruise, but Link was wildly certain in that moment that he was falling directly into lava, or a deep pit, or a Bokoblin's line of sight. The chimes that rang out after were almost certainly apologetic, but they sounded like laughter to his burning ears.  
  
He could hear the crunching footsteps of the first guard they met even before Fi chimed repeatedly for him to stop. Licking his cracked lips, Link waited for further direction, wondering if he should crouch or if even that would draw attention. The beast was so close, Link could hear it snuffling. Sweat slicked down the back of his neck as he wondered suddenly whether the monster could find him by smell. Even Fi couldn’t help with that. Best case scenario if they caught him was that they threw him back in his cell, and he had to do this all over again. Worst case… Plats had said something about a catapult.

If they did hunt by scent, the sulfurous smoke must have masked it, because no blaring horns split his ears. Instead, after a moment that stretched forever, he finally heard the guard's footsteps moving away, and almost collapsed with relief.

Forward. Forward. Right. Stop! Stop. Stop. Forward.  
  
Fi sang, her instructions coming like a simple, urgent melody, and Link danced in response, moving as nimbly as his aching limbs could manage. It was a routine they repeated over and over, until Link wondered if his heart could stop from sheer anxiety. Through most of it, he stayed grimly silent, careful not to draw any unwanted attention. Whenever it was safe, though, he started babbling.  
  
“I used to climb a lot,” Link found himself panting, wiping sweat off his face with a grimy hand as he rested against a stone outcropping, sheltered from view. Crossing the mountain wasn't physically exhausting on its own, but the injuries from his fall were beginning to catch up to him, and his nerves were taut. "Rocks… and trees. Wasn’t very good. Broke an arm once… and a leg." His throat was dry again, the smoke harsh on his lungs, but he couldn’t stop talking. "Used to run right off the island, too… or else Zelda would push me. She got in… so much trouble.” His laugh came out as a croak. “Everyone was… so relieved when my Loftwing finally came."  
  
Fi didn't respond, but Link didn't expect or need her to. He really just wanted to distract himself.  
  
“Zelda will never believe this, you know. She’ll think I’m… making it up. To impress her.” Resting his head on his knees, he tried to imagine Zelda's reaction if she could see him now. He hoped she’d be proud. She'd always been the one pushing him past what others expected of him, fighting with her father to let him try to become a knight. "I don't think I'll tell her… everything. She already feels… bad enough… as it is."

There was nothing for her to feel guilty about, but he hadn’t been able to tell her that. He couldn't tell her anything now until she woke up. For that, he needed the Triforce, and for _that_ … he had to stand up.

"Okay," Link sighed eventually, trudging to his feet. "Have to keep going. If Demise breaks out again… Groose can't force him back on his own. I’m the one who… renews the seal." Still, Link didn't move right away. He was so tired.  
  
In his exhaustion, it took him a minute to realize that something in the atmosphere had shifted. Link shivered, rubbing his arms and wondering worriedly if he was getting a fever. The wound on his head might be bad enough. The air wavered, warping without heat. It felt…  
  
The ground beneath him rumbled, and the feeling vanished abruptly. Fi's metallic chimes jangled in alarm as the source of the rumbling moved past him, but Link just smiled. He recognized the sound this time.  
  
"Hey!" Link said as Plats popped up, shaking off the strangeness from before and grinning in relief. "Where have you been?"  
  
"Hey yourself," Plats said. Something hit Link's shoulder, and he stooped down quickly to catch it. Another water plant. Link immediately hoped that Plats found all the treasure he was searching for and more. "Can't believe you've been walkin' around in the open like this. This place is crawlin' with thugs!"  
  
"You're telling me," Link said after a long drink from the plant. He wanted so badly to pour some over his head, but he needed every drop. "I don't know the tunnels like you do. Can't risk being dumped in the middle of a group of creeps." He wondered if Fi could tell where the tunnels would go. He'd have to ask—they might be able to find a shortcut.  
  
"Eh, guess I can't say nothin', can I?" Plats said, sounding impressed. "You've been doin' okay so far, haven't you? Good thing you ran into your friend."  
  
Link choked, spluttering on the last of the fruit.  
  
"My… friend?" he managed to say. How could Plats know Fi was leading him?  
  
"Sure. When I first saw him I thought maybe that was a guy you wouldn't want around. He's kinda… creepy, ya know?" Plats shivered. "He's got a _vibe_ . But you never put up a fuss about him, so I figure, hey, what do I know? He's steerin' ya through those monsters okay, anyway. Where'd he go? I coulda sworn I just saw him!"  
  
"I don't know," Link said slowly, the strange warping he'd felt just moments before clicking into place with dreadful familiarity. "Listen, my… friend, does he have…" _Impossibly smooth skin that was hard, yet yielding? Hair that fell in a perfect curtain? 'Stunning features'?_ "…Diamonds?" he settled on weakly. "Kind of a diamond theme going?"  
  
"Oh, he's got a thing for diamonds, alright. Got a nice sized one in his ear, too." His voice became greedy. "Look, I'm not asking for payment or anything, but if you're offering… well, I wouldn't say no, is all. That's all I'm sayin'."  
  
His heart sank.  
  
"Fi, did you know that Ghirahim was following me?" Link muttered under his breath. He couldn't see how she'd missed it when she'd been aware of everything else around him, but Ghirahim was tricky. Link only managed to keep track of him because of the chiming sound he made whenever he—  
  
Link's thoughts came to a screeching halt.

"Fi," he said clearly this time, holding a hand up when Plats tried to interrupt in confusion. "If you're there, I need you to let me know right now."  
  
There was no response. He hadn’t expected one.  
  
Link breathed out slowly, trying not to throw up. He'd been an idiot. Fi had never been able to see him, or communicate. All this time, Ghirahim had been leading him around by the nose… and Link had followed him. Blindly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these chapters are coming out slowly. I’ve been more focused on writing new chapters than editing old ones, but it’ll all make it up eventually. Anyway, back to Ghirahim :D

Ghirahim scowled, gloved fingers drumming against his arm as he wondered what Link and that filthy little creature could possibly be talking about. It galled that he'd been forced to retreat by a simple, dirt-dwelling Mogma, but one did as one must to achieve one’s ends. Link had actually greeted the thing with fondness, something he assuredly would not have done had he known how appallingly ugly it was. The smell alone should have dissuaded him.

If this nearsighted Mogma had caught him tailing the boy it would be an annoyance, but nothing he couldn't handle. Not a soul alive could interrupt his plans now, with every piece on the board moving as if he himself directed them. Even Link— _especially Link_ —was playing right into Ghirahim's hands.

It had not been in his plans to revisit the child so soon after their last encounter. He intended to make an indelible impression on the boy, and only time could tend whatever seeds he might have planted. But when night fell and Link's presence remained on the surface… well, if Link died now, it would be more than inconvenient. Tracking him down had been all too easy, and his curiosity was rewarded with a delicious sight: battered and bleeding, bereft of all possessions, he had found his hero stumbling out of a cave into an apocalyptic nightmare he had no hope of crossing safely. He giggled again at the memory, relishing the cruel irony. The unfortunate boy had been caught in the eruption, an event that was almost certainly Eldin’s work. How the goddess’s servants continued to complicate life for their hero!

It would never do, of course. Ghirahim was certain he had deduced Link's plan, and he must be allowed to succeed, even if it meant destroying Demise in the present. The thought of it pained him, enraged him—even now, hearing Link speak so candidly of renewing his master's bonds had _infuriated_ him to the point that he'd almost given himself away—but it would all be worth it when he revived his master in the past, snatching victory from Link's unsuspecting fingers.

But how to reunite him with his sword? He dismissed out of hand the thought that Link might find it on his own. It still lay where it had fallen on the other side of the mountain, untouched by the Bokoblins but entirely out of reach. A snap of his fingers would retrieve it in seconds and the boy could be on his way, but if he interfered too openly Link might begin to suspect his motives. He considered ordering the Bokoblins to retreat—he couldn't imagine why the brainless creatures remained, aside from perhaps some misguided attempt to curry favor with him—but that still left the trouble of the volcano. A tricky tangle to figure out, but a delightful one.

As he stood considering his options, Link came to a stop, flinching at the ash and heat. Ghirahim clicked his tongue in exasperation. It was no use. He would have to retrieve the sword himself. Fi might even be convinced to hold her tongue on the matter, if she thought it in her master's best interest. Link could fly home to his nest in the sky, and this whole little incident would be behind them…

His thoughts trailed off as Link fell to his knees. At first he thought the hero overcome with despair—understandable, given the circumstances—but then he… _crawled._ Moving forward on all fours, Link pressed on, and it came to Ghirahim slowly that he actually intended to search for his sword. He watched in stunned silence, repulsed and amused and intrigued in that peculiar blend of emotions that only Link had ever incited. This was past the point of courage, it was _idiocy_. It was suicide. It lacked dignity, it defied all common sense, it—

It gave Ghirahim an idea.

Had Link possessed even a child's understanding of the workings of his own weapon it would never have worked, but such knowledge was lost to this age. As it was, convincing the poor, bereft child that his trusted companion guided him had been laughably easy, and avoiding his notice equally so. As long as he steered clear of the Bokoblin's lights and Link’s pestersome pet Mogma, no creature on this mountain would ever know he was here. Link was oblivious to his presence, and Ghirahim was left to his fun.

And _oh,_ what fun it was.

The Mogma finally left, burrowing away through its hidden warren of tunnels and tearing Ghirahim from his thoughts. Eyes alight, the demon lord snapped, emerging to loom unseen over the hero. The metallic chime of reality crashing in on his transported form might have given him away under other circumstances, but here it played into his ruse. Humans heard what they expected to, and were remarkably clever at explaining away inconsistencies on their own.

Link inclined his head, but said nothing. His tight, slumped shoulders spoke of weariness and tension, but that silly scrap of cloth protecting his eyes masked most of his expression.

Ghirahim scowled. Perhaps he could arrange for it to… blow away. That blindfold was an unsettling reminder of everything Ghirahim had ever failed to notice about Link in the past. All the signs had been there, now that he considered it, but the idea of a hero damaged in such a way was just too absurd. Surely, this hadn't been the Goddess's original plan… though then again, she could not have designed a companion more suited to aid Link than the one he had.

For a long moment they stood in silence, Link occasionally opening his mouth as if to say something before changing his mind. Perhaps his well of words had finally run dry, a well Ghirahim would never have suspected Link even possessed from the silent encounters he’d been treated to before. Finally, Ghirahim flicked a finger, allowing an impatiently inquisitive note to chime in Link's ear, and he twitched.

"Sorry," he said finally, pausing to cough, and Ghirahim relaxed. Perhaps he had not been seen after all. "You're right. We have to keep going."

A pity the sky child couldn't see his anticipatory grin.

Guiding Link through the Bokoblin's crude attempts at surveillance was a slow, painstaking process, but Ghirahim reveled in every second. What a delightful twist of fate that this ever-defiant child now danced at his command, obedient and responsive and utterly at his mercy. He could guide the boy wherever he wanted—into the lava, off a cliff, or straight in the path of his master's minions—and Link would follow and obey, never knowing the ultimate cause of his own demise. Not that Ghirahim intended him to die that way, of course. Link would die, eventually—a strangely disappointing thought, given how often this gadfly had been a nuisance to him—but it would be at his own hands, or else on his blade as wielded by his master, and Link would know Ghirahim as the cause.

Still, even as he guided Link safely through the volcano, the _possibility_ left him quivering. If Link stumbled a little more often than necessary at his direction, gathering bruises that might otherwise have been avoided, Ghirahim still thought he exercised remarkable restraint… aside from perhaps one instance when it failed him, and Link went wandering off a ledge. That had been an indulgence, though well worth it in his opinion. It was always a pleasure to hear Link scream.

The second half of their journey was different, though, his amusement tempered with frustration. The boy stayed persistently silent now, only speaking when prompted and trudging forward otherwise in wordless exhaustion. Ghirahim almost missed the misplaced intimacy of his chatter, even if a great portion had been inane reminiscing about _Zelda_. He had hardly bothered to learn the spirit maiden's name, her identity as the goddess reborn superseding all else, but she seemed to be all Link thought about. It was as if he still didn't comprehend the true nature of his childhood friend. With grim satisfaction, Ghirahim thought that even if the boy somehow managed to win (ridiculous though the thought was) his return home would not be nearly as simple as he believed. Divinity could not be so seamlessly contained in mortal skin.

Link's injuries were also starting to take their toll, just as the terrain grew more treacherous. The hero gained new scrapes and bruises, ones that Ghirahim hadn't intended, although he bore it all in silence. Still, they were making good process. The Bokoblins were no real threat when Ghirahim could easily kill any who seemed close to _glancing_ at Link, and their outposts had become fewer and farther between. Link might have even made it to the end mostly unscathed, were it not for the wildlife.

The hero was catching his breath against the side of the mountain as Ghirahim kept silent watch. These breaks came often now—a sign of Link's exhaustion, as if he needed any. Neither noticed the slow seep of red slime gathering at Link's feet until it was too late. The fiery Chu Jelly emerged from the ground with a massive _schlump_ , trapping Link within its burning mass, and he screamed. Jumping and shaking frantically, Link eventually managed to break away, but not before blistering burns had erupted painfully across most of his skin. He didn't even notice as Ghirahim quickly disposed of the thing with three well-placed daggers. His breathing came in short, pained gasps that would have brought the demon more pleasure had he not been faced with the frustrating realization that, with the sword's resting place almost in sight, Link still might not make it there in his condition.

"Are we… almost there?" Link panted finally, the first words he'd said that even approached a complaint, and Ghirahim signaled the affirmative. Sweat dripped down Link's forehead into his blindfold, and he wondered what hid in those unseen eyes. Ghirahim wanted to see the pain there, and the fear. He wanted to know the inner workings of the chosen hero’s mind.

"…Which way?"

Link stumbled more than walked now, and Ghirahim abandoned any pretense of sneaking around Bokoblins, disposing of the beasts with silent daggers that the boy never saw. Twice, a Chu Jelly tried to sneak up on Link as before, but Ghirahim was not the type to be fooled twice. Chiming urgently for the boy to move, he waited for them to form before striking them down, grinning maliciously as they writhed and dissolved. It was hard to see the sky through the veil of smoke, but he thought it was almost dawn by the time they finally found the cave that fell the sword—and the final obstacle in their way.

Ghirahim signaled Link to halt, weighing their options. Winding around the cave's entrance was a shallow crack in the earth, not quite deep enough to be deadly were it not for the stream of lava running sluggishly along the bottom. Their saving grace was that it was narrow. Link could probably clear it with a jump… if he were in any condition for such things. If Ghirahim could even communicate what needed to be done.

"What's wrong?" Link asked when he remained silent. Even slumped forward in weary pain, his ears twitched at every noise.

Ghirahim scowled, irritated at how needlessly complicated their situation had become and ready for it to end. He was not used to being silent for so long, and could not say he enjoyed the experience. At last, he settled on a single note that fell in pitch, imitating the terrain in front of them. Link frowned in confusion, and he tried again. _Forward forward forward forward… falling_.

"A… drop?" Link guessed, and Ghirahim wiggled his fingers triumphantly to chime _yes_ . "Can it be crossed?" _Yes._ "Is there a bridge?" _No_. "Can I climb down?" _NO._ "Can I… jump?"

Ghirahim hesitated. _…Yes._

"You want me to jump." His voice was flat, but shaking with… exhaustion? Anger? He'd clenched his fists—almost certainly anger. "You're sure there's… no other way?"

Ghirahim didn't respond, a slow smile creeping across his face despite the situation. Link had been almost unnervingly calm until now, but even he must have a shattering point. Inconvenient if he'd reached it now, after all that sneaking about, but Ghirahim was certainly here for the show.

"Okay." Link blew out forcefully, rubbing his hands in agitation. "Okay, fine. I'm guessing if I don't make this jump, I'm dead? No, don't answer. Just position me. I need to take a running start."

Eying the distance across the chasm, Ghirahim directed Link so that he had plenty of space to gain momentum. If anything, the anger seemed to strengthen him—his stride was steadier than Ghirahim had seen it all night.

"You know the drill. Signal once three seconds before the jump, and again when it's time to jump. Like we always do.” Then, with a shake of his head he was off, running towards the chasm.

Ghirahim signaled him perfectly, and Link reacted as if he'd done this dozens of times before, which Ghirahim supposed he had. He sailed over the chasm, landing in a smooth roll despite his injuries. No part of the maneuver could have been planned or executed with more precision, and Ghirahim exulted inwardly at his success even as a reluctant grin spread across Link's face. They had practically made it.

Then, with a rumbling crack, the edge of the cliff collapsed.

Time stopped. Stunned, Link grabbed at the falling rocks as they crumbled around him, lunging desperately for something to hold on to. Nothing held. In a motion both slow and impossibly fast, Link fell, opening his mouth to scream.

"Ghirahim!"

He reacted without thought. In less than a human's heartbeat he was leaning over the ledge, grasping Link's arm moments before it fell out of reach, the blindfold finally slipping from his eyes. The heat of the lava enveloped them like an embrace. Link dangled there, staring blindly up at him in anger, fear, and pure defiance, and Ghirahim laughed out loud.

“You knew," he said, relieved to hear his own voice again as amusement warred with outrage in his mind. Oh, he should have been _furious_ to have played the fool for so long… but on the other hand, it meant that Link had followed him willingly, which was just so much better.

Link glared. "And you sent me off that ledge on purpose."

"I'm saving you now, though." Ghirahim snapped and the two of them transported, Link collapsing to the ground while Ghirahim stood surveying him, both a safe distance from the cliff. "I think that makes us even, don't you?"

" _Why?"_ Link struggled to his feet, gritting his teeth and turning to face the demon. "If you could have just…" he snapped his own fingers in demonstration, "…all this time, then why pretend? Why are you helping me in the first place?"

"I'm not sure you have any room to complain, given the alternative." Ghirahim spoke teasingly, though his mind raced. All that subterfuge for nothing… but this could still be turned to his advantage. If he pushed Link in just the right way, fueled that confusion, unnerved and unhinged him enough, then maybe this could still be salvaged. Fortunately, getting under Link's skin was Ghirahim’s specialty. "Of course, if you'd rather, I can leave you to find your sword on your own. Good bye, sky child." He snapped as if leaving, and Link's eyes widened.

"Wait!"

Ghirahim laughed, and Link growled under his breath. Bloody, bruised, and burned, Link had to know that the first enemy he came across would likely kill him. Not that anything stood between him and the sword now—they were a mere minute's walk from the cave—but he didn't need to know that yet.

"So you are… leading me to my sword?" he asked warily.

"If you doubted me, why did you follow?"

Link laughed, a rough sound without humor. All of his exhaustion seemed to settle on him at once. "What choice do you think I had? I can't just… _snap_ myself anywhere I want. I can't see. I have no sword. Another day on this mountain and I'll probably be dead. All I could do was follow your lead, and hope that whatever you had planned for me wouldn't kill me faster."

"A roundabout way of thanking me, but you're welcome." He grinned secretly, awaiting the explosion. "Now—"

"Thanking you?" he spat, his temper ignited once more. How terribly predictable. "You think—after everything—you think you can do anything you want to me, lead me, push me, hurt me—" even in the warm light, Link's red cheeks somehow burned redder—"and I'm supposed to take it all and thank you because I'm not dead? Or do you think I'll hold back in the end because you helped me? You said yourself that there can't be any mercy between us, so why did you have to start? All you've done is given me a debt that I can't meet!"

Ghirahim could remember a time just the night before when Link had barely been able to stutter in his presence. It had been one of his more endearing qualities—Ghirahim always loved an attentive audience. Now it was like a dam had burst, and words were pouring out.

"Nothing's changed between us. You know that, right?" It was almost as though he were trying to convince himself. "This is too important. Zelda—"

"That's enough,” Ghirahim interrupted him, irritated. In an instant he was behind Link, one hand wrapped around his mouth to silence him, the other digging into his shoulder. Link grunted, gritting his teeth against his hand, but wisely refrained from biting down—the skin that could hold back the force of a sword would break those fragile teeth. "I've heard quite enough about your adorable friend for one day. You think you owe me?" Link actually sounded pained over it, ridiculous though it was. He had no way of knowing how self-serving Ghirahim's _mercy_ really was, but if this supposed debt weighed on his conscience, so much the better. "Well, there's more than one way to repay a debt. You might think of something that surprises us both."

“Don’t touch me,” Link growled, voice muffled beneath Ghirahim’s fingers, and his grin deepened. He had been forced to keep his distance all night, but now he could feel every tremor of those exhausted muscles. A slow trickle of blood ran along the line of Link's jaw, and Ghirahim's tongue flicked out almost of its own accord, tracing it up to its source. Link shuddered in a most satisfactory manner, straining to move his head.

"If you wish to know why I do what I do... well, boredom happens to the best of us. Not all of my actions relate to some scheme. Then again, I might have plans for your death that go beyond this mountain. Or perhaps…" He moved the hand from Link's mouth to caress the path his tongue had traced. "…I've simply grown to enjoy your company, Link." He blew lightly on Link's ear, and was rewarded with another shiver.

"You… I…"

"Now _there's_ the stuttering sky child I know and love," Ghirahim murmured, and Link's eyes blazed.

"Stop it!" Breaking free, Link whirled to face him with a clenched fist he saw coming from miles away. Ghirahim caught it, and the one after that, stretching his fists apart until they were nose to nose with each other.

"You want me to stop hurting you? To stop _touching_ you?" he asked. Link spat in his face, and Ghirahim hissed. _"T_ _hen stop me._ "

A kick to Link's abdomen sent him flying back with a breathless gasp. Before he could hit the ground, he had dissolved in a flurry of diamonds that carried him away, taking him out of Ghirahim's presence and reuniting him with his precious sword. He would survive, and it was less than he deserved. With more calm than he felt, Ghirahim wiped his face. _Ingrateful brat._

Still, the night had gone well, if not in the way he'd expected. Granted, he'd expended a lot of pointless effort, but the perks had been more than worth the trouble. If anything, he'd cemented his work from the night before. After tonight, Link would never stand comfortably on the surface again.

Even better, he thought as he transported away from the mountain, leaving its occupants to fend for themselves—no matter what passed between them in the future, or how much he said he hated him, Link would always remember that when the cliff had fallen and his life had been in danger, he had called out Ghirahim's name.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Silent Realms were terrifying, but by the fourth time they were also pretty repetitive. I guess this is my answer to that.

With the last note of the Song of the Hero still thrumming in the air, Link lowered his harp and slipped it carefully back in its pouch. In the same smooth motion, he placed both hands on the hilt of his sword, drawing it out with the soft whisper of metal on leather. He felt honed, sharp and ready like the weapon he carried. In the back of his mind a battle raged, eagerness warring with trepidation in a dizzying spiral that had begun the moment he suspected where this final trial might take place, but he let none of it show on the outside. This couldn't affect him, not the way it had the last time he'd visited the Silent Realm. No, he was strong enough to face this trial, even now. Even here.

He had no way of knowing if his face gave away the lie. He felt numb.

"Before you on the ground is a mark." Fi spoke, and Link forced himself to focus on her words. "Thrust your sword into the center of the mark and open the way to the final Silent Realm."

Nodding, Link set the point of his sword on the ground in front of him, then hesitated. A light breeze ruffled his hair, thin and cool and smelling of home. The air on the surface was heavier than here, and always spoke of its surroundings, whether the salty damp of ocean wind or the pervasive smell of moss and dirt that permeated the forest. In Skyloft, every scent was a light caress, just a fleeting touch on his senses—old stone one moment, freshly-cut grass the next, and always, wafting from somewhere in the distance, the spicy aroma of pumpkin soup.

The Silent Realms smelled like nothing.

According to Fi, the Realms were mere echoes of reality, imperfect copies of the vibrant world the Goddesses had created. Sounds were wrong there, as well, his footfalls on the ground soft and wavering even when they should have sounded firm. As for the… colors… Link had no frame of reference. He couldn't have said whether they differed from the real world or not, except that even to his inexperienced eyes they looked ethereal and soft, as if the world might fade away at any second. As long as the Guardians slept, at least. Once they awoke, both sound and sight became jarringly loud and discordant, though somehow no less otherwordly and strange. He wanted to see his home so badly it ached, but how close could this pale imitation possibly come? And did he want to see peaceful Skyloft as the setting of another disquieting trial?

Fi chimed, a gentle reminder, and Link berated himself for getting caught in this line of thought once more. It didn't matter what he wanted. This was his trial and he would face it, just like all the others.

With a grunt, he thrust his sword into the ground. It entered smoothly, though Link knew the surface had been hard cobblestone only moments before, and his breath caught as the world became light. He felt the now familiar sensation of his spirit rising… rising…

He opened his eyes, and saw.

Link had thought he was ready. He'd done this before, _seen_ three times before. Now, as tears sprang to his eyes (which he wiped away quickly because he wanted to _see_ ), he realized this was something he could never have prepared for.

Turbulent clouds pushed each other across an impossibly vast sky, though he felt no wind. A soft light in a color he couldn't name touched everything in sight, immersing the world in a unifying glow that came from everywhere and nowhere at once. The tightly packed stones of the plaza he had played on as a child spread out before him, worn by age but clean and well cared for, and beyond that… beyond the well-beaten paths and the proud pennants, and the winding stairs carved into the island itself, he could just see the roofs of buildings peeking out. It was familiar and strange, and achingly beautiful. Somewhere among those tiny little houses was the academy he had grown up in, chasing Zelda through the hallways, sneaking into lectures and pestering the older students into teaching him everything they could about becoming a knight. His home.

Except that this was more than just his home now. It was also a trial. Hovering silently around him were masked apparitions that did not belong in this quiet little town, grim and unknowable in their stillness. Floating specters lit the sky with their balls of light as they deliberately went about their patrols, as mysterious as they were threatening. Even as he took it all in, a shimmering ball of light tore away from his chest, transforming with a flash into something small and delicate—a pale, thin flower. His spirit vessel. Catching it in cupped hands, Link tucked the flower carefully inside his tunic. It might have been only a representation of his spirit, but he still felt instinctively that he should protect it.

"When you have filled the Spirit Vessel once more, you shall finally be recognized as the true hero of legend." Fi's words echoed around him, lighting a deep unease in his heart. What did he have left to prove? Was there still some small possibility that he was not the chosen hero? "Only then will you be shown the door that will lead you to the Triforce. Master…" Fi hesitated. "This will be different from previous trials. You have been presented with obstacles to test your power, puzzles to measure your wisdom, and ordeals to prove your courage. You will find these here, as well. However, this trial is built from your very heart. Your worthiness to hold the Triforce will be proved here, along with the worthiness of your heart's greatest wish. Do not allow past success to make you complacent."

Link almost laughed. Complacent? In a Silent Realm?

"I understand," he said, shifting on his feet and missing the comforting familiarity of his sword. At least his wish would be judged worthy. What could be more pure than ridding the world of Demise's evil forever?

"Very well. I await your return in the outside world. Master… you will do well." With those words, her presence faded, and Link knew he was alone.

Still, he delayed. Turning in a slow circle, Link drank in the sight of his home. Behind him was the wooden platform he'd taken at a running leap so many times, and where Zelda had pushed him off almost as often. And there above him was the light tower, soaring further into the sky than he could have imagined, though he'd always known when he scaled it that he was climbing dangerously high. And off in the distance, barely visible but rising over even the light tower, stood the statue of the Goddess, stone face serene. He took it all in, pressing it desperately in his memory to keep with him when the world inevitably vanished from sight. He knew from experience that stepping beyond the bounds of the spiraling seal would begin the trial, awakening the Guardians' wrath until he claimed his first tear, and then there would be no time for savoring while he searched for the next. He wanted this to stretch a moment longer, always a moment longer… but there was no avoiding his task forever.

With a deep sigh, he turned, planning his first move. A tear sparkled nearby within sprinting distance, but with the Guardians behind it poised to attack, he'd have to run fast. Once he reached the first tear, he could climb the light tower for a better view of the others.

Bracing himself, Link stepped outside the circle, and the world awoke. The strangely serene glow gave way to something hostile and hot, and ominous life shone in the Guardians' eyes as their heads and weapons raised, focusing on Link. He ran, ignoring the urgent thrumming and discordant clanks that sent his heart pounding. This place was like a nightmare, designed to draw out fear, and the only way to beat it was to push through. The nearest Guardian met him as he arrived, raising his scything sword as Link reached for the tear, and—

 _A dark stone chamber surrounded him. Link whirled in surprise, looking for either tear or Guardian, but both had vanished from sight—or rather, Link realized,_ **_he_ ** _had. Before him were steps leading up to a raised dais, above which a strange, reflective stone hung unsupported. It all felt more solid than the realm he'd just left, less likely to dissolve around him. Had he been pulled from the Silent Realm somehow? Then why could he still see?_

_He ascended the steps slowly, head turning in case something unfriendly inhabited this chamber, but he found his gaze drawn continually back to the stone. It was big, larger than him, and beginning to pulse with a steady glow. Link squinted, trying to see inside even as the light grew brighter. He almost thought he could make out a figure—_

_Without warning, the stone exploded with a final blaze of light, and Link threw up a hand to shield himself. Gleaming rubble scattered around him, sparkling like tiny jewels, but he barely noticed. There_ **_was_ ** _somebody trapped in there, a woman who was now free. As the radiance surrounding her form faded, he started to make out her features—light, shimmering hair that cascaded down her back, delicately pointed ears, fair skin, and a simple white dress flowing gently as if in a breeze. Link stared, mouth agape. He'd never seen another person before, but he thought she must be beautiful._

_Then she opened her eyes, and they shone with a divine warmth that was beyond human. She smiled._

" _Hey there, sleepyhead."_

The scene vanished, and Link staggered, barely noticing as the Tear became a spark that flitted around, sinking into the flower tucked against his chest and returning the world to its still tranquility. The Guardian had vanished, transported back to its silent sentinel. He _knew_ that voice, though he hadn't heard it in too long.

"Zelda?" he whispered. There was no answer. The Silent Realm shimmered around him once more, quiet and sinister, and time was counting down. There were still tears to collect. Shaking his head, he ran to the light tower where and started to climb, still trying to make sense of what he'd seen. Unless something had changed, Zelda was still sealed away in the Temple—sealed, he was suddenly sure, in a room and stone exactly like the one he had seen. Was she somehow free? Or was this just a vision of sorts, of things that might someday be?

One of the Watchers circled the level above, but he avoided its lantern easily, climbing rung after rung until he'd made it to the top. From here, he had a breathtaking view of all of Skyloft, which diverted his attention momentarily. It was a small town, especially compared to the vastness of the world below, but there was something comforting about its steady, rustic presence. Scattered below were twinkling tears, easy to pick out in the stillness. Even better, he realized, a tear hung suspended in the tower's center, right in front of a motionless Guardian. Shying away from the hulking masked figure—he knew it would stay motionless unless he delayed for too long or set off a Watcher's cry, but they still made him uneasy—Link reached a hand out for the tear.

 _Tall trees surrounded him, strong and proud as if they'd been growing for centuries. He recognized this place as Faron Woods, though the light was not so cool and peculiar as he remembered from the Silent Realm. Warm sun trickled through leaves—_ **_green_ ** _leaves, he remembered having learned once, green like his tunic, green like the grass—painting mottled patterns on the earth below, and floating motes in the air caught that sun and spun its light hypnotically._

 _A head rested on his shoulder, and he saw with a start that he wasn't alone. It was the girl from before—_ **_Zelda? Could it be?_ ** _—staring up at him with those warm, brilliant eyes._

 **_Blue_** _, he thought, unthinkingly putting an arm around her. She had told him once that both of their eyes were blue. Surely his own eyes weren't_ **_this_ ** _blue. He'd never thought to ask what color her hair was._

" _Where are we?" he asked, surrounded by beauty but unable to look away from those eyes. There was so much else he needed to know, but that would do for a start._

" _On the surface, silly," she laughed, squeezing him back before ducking away, running down the path in front of them. "Follow me!" She'd changed from that dress into a knight's uniform like his own, more suitable for exploring a dense forest. Her Wing Ceremony was another year away, though—when had she earned the tunic?_

_With everything that surrounded him, Link found that he didn’t care._

_Running after her, Link marveled at how bright and lush the forest was. The air was sweet with the scent of flowers and growth, and curiously carried hints of wood smoke. Mushrooms gathered like glowing gems at the base of enormous trees, and small birds chirped and flitted away as they ran past. One of the birds was blue._

_Finally, Zelda stopped at a clearing, and Link realized they were standing in front of a small group of cottages, with the framework for others under construction. Smoke curled comfortably out of chimneys, and he caught the mouthwatering smell of food roasting in ovens. There were_ **_people_ ** _on the surface, chatting in small groups, chopping at wooden logs, and leaning over plans in excited discussion._

" _With Demise's evil gone for good, the surface is safe to live on again," Zelda explained as Link stared at the scene in front of them. "Some people still prefer the sky, of course, but most of the younger folk have chosen to settle here. We're turning it into a home, Link."_

" _Is this… this can't be real," Link said wonderingly. With the trees cleared away, he could finally see the sky—a perfect, crystalline blue, just like he'd always been told._

" _I_ _t can be," Zelda said, slim hand wrapping around his own. "Once you get the Triforce, of course. You just need to make the right wish."_

The tear dissolved into liquid light, joining its partner in the spirit vessel. Link half raised his hand, a sound of loss escaping him. What else would he possibly wish for? He wanted that future! Shaking his head, Link chose his next tear and set off with excited determination. Only now that he'd seen the true vividness of the world did he understand what a pale reflection this place really was.

The third tear hovered near the bazaar, across a walkway guarded by a Watcher. The intricate weaving of the rugs in the windows caught his eye—the world had more details and patterns to it than he ever could have known—but the shining tear and the possibilities it held drew him back. With barely contained impatience, Link waited for the Watcher to pass before sprinting forward, grabbing the blue light with eager hands.

_Skyloft rose up around him, but this was Skyloft as it was meant to be—colorful, cozy, and bustling with life. A group of women holding laundry baskets passed him by, chatting and laughing together, and a small boy dodged around his ankles in pursuit of a shiny black beetle. A familiar cry drew Link's gaze up, and his throat tightened as an enormous Loftwing flapped its wings above, soaring into the sky. Running along beneath it, Link came to the edge of a wooden pier and stopped, breath catching at the sight. He'd always heard that a layer of clouds lay draped beneath the islands like a blanket, blocking any view of the land below, but nothing like that existed now. The full extent of the surface extended far beneath him, trees and rivers and streams melding into rocks and mountains, with the desert barely visible in the distance. In the middle of it all, nestled in a steadily growing clearing, a proud village had advanced far beyond the modest group of cottages he'd seen before. Houses, shops, farms, and the foundation for something bigger dotted the landscape, all built up in a matter of minutes to Link's eyes, though it must have taken years of work. His heart swelled with pride at the sight. If this was the result of everything he'd been put through, it was all worth it._

_Footsteps behind him made him smile, and he half turned, though he couldn't quite tear his eyes away from the scene below. Then a familiar laugh froze the blood in Link's body, growing in volume before cutting off suddenly._

" _Beautiful, isn't it?" the same voice whispered in his ear as a pair of hands gripped his shoulders, holding him in place. Struggling, Link looked sideways at the hands that held him. They were so dark they must be black. "A perfect future, with the defeat of my master. You've certainly paved the way for an industrious little society. You should be proud! But it is not your future… or have you forgotten?" The colorful world around him faded, became darker, disappeared, and Link gripped his eyes in silent protest as if doing so could keep it all from slipping away. "This is all you will ever see of your future."_

_Those gripping hands pushed him over the edge, and he fell with a scream, whistling for a bird that didn't come, plummeting towards a land he could no longer see…_

Link gasped as the third tear swirled around him, joining the others. Relief swelled as he saw he had his sight back, even if he was back in the muted world of the Silent Realm. What was _Ghirahim_ doing there? It couldn't really be him, any more than it could really be Zelda in those visions, but why him at all? A pang of sadness hit him as he realized that Ghirahim, or whoever it was, was right—Link would never see that world again. But as long as it happened and the world was at peace, did it matter whether Link bore witness or not?

He still had a trial to complete, and the spirit vessel was less than half full. Still, he was grimly apprehensive as he rounded the bazaar, spotting the telltale sparkle of a tear in the scaffolding below. Lowering himself carefully onto a slim wooden plank, Link inched out, grabbing a beam for support as he leaned forward. Straining, Link reached, his fingers barely brushing the tear.

_Burning air filled his lungs, heavy with the scent of sulfur. Grimacing in recognition, Link looked up to find the sky cloaked in dark smoke and ash, the mountain's peak towering over him. Liquid light fell from the summit in slender streams that gathered in pools at its rocky base—lava, he assumed, thick and hot and dangerous._

_Dismayed, he stared across the treacherous landscape in awe. How had he ever managed to cross this dismal wasteland alive?_

" _C_ _an you imagine?" Link looked up to find what could only be the demon lord Ghirahim surveying him from a cliff above, arms folded and head quirked in clear amusement. "I stood—" he snapped his fingers, appearing mere feet away from Link in a cloud of cascading diamonds, "—_ ** _this_ ** _close to you, followed you for hours, directed your every move… and yet, were it not for that interfering Mogma, you would never have even known it. Remarkably unobservant of you, don't you think? But then, you were dealt a rather cruel hand, given the task you were born to fulfill."_

_Scowling, Link looked away, if only because he didn't want to give even this fake Ghirahim the satisfaction of seeing him stare. Everything about the demon was sharp, from the cut of his hair to the points of the diamonds that adorned his… everything. Even the voluminous mantle he wore ended in sharp points, richly dyed in a color he couldn't name._

" _It's red, my dear child," Ghirahim said with a roll of his visible eye, and Link started at hearing his thoughts addressed so directly. "Crimson, if you want to be technical, but I doubt your unseasoned eyes can tell the difference. Crimson like the thread of fate you tie like a noose around your own neck."_

" _What do you mean?" he asked, backing away slowly. Ghirahim wasn't visibly armed, but that could change at any second, and Link didn't know if these visions could harm him or not. Smirking, Ghirahim matched his retreat step for step._

" _What I_ **_mean_** _, boy, is that you run headfirst into a future that offers you nothing. You offer your life on the line, again and again and again, and the payment you accept in return is that other people will be happy?" Link's back hit the wall, and Ghirahim's grin deepened as he advanced ever closer. "Even for a hero like yourself, it's almost too selfless to be believed. One would think that working for the Goddess would come with a few perks, hmm?"_

" _I am the way I am," Link said grimly, neck craning to meet Ghirahim's dark eyes with a glare. "Why waste time worrying about what can't be fixed?"_

" _Why indeed?" he murmured, placing his hands to either side of Link's head. Their faces were inches away now, and Link could smell the depths of a forge on his breath. "But forget about Zelda, if only for a moment. Maybe this time it's about what you want… or what you_ **_wish_** _."_

Link blanched. Only his death grip on the scaffolding kept him from plummeting as the fourth tear sank into the spirit vessel. He pulled himself up with watery limbs, trying to ignore the crushing realization that beat at him like a hammer. His denial before had been so absolute that he'd even managed to fool himself, but now it was out in the open, impossible to ignore. There _was_ a second wish, one that rivaled even his wish to defeat Demise, one that shamed him to the depths of his soul.

He wanted to see. Goddess above, he wanted to see.

Link ran mindlessly as this new war waged within. Zelda had tasked him with retrieving the Triforce in order to defeat Demise. It wasn't his to use on a whim. If anything, he'd already been rewarded for his quest beyond his wildest imaginations. After all, if he hadn't completed these trials, he would never have seen Zelda, or Skyloft, or the surface, or any of the bright visions of the future he'd been given. But what if it wasn't even a choice? What if he took hold of the Triforce and it answered whichever wish was strongest? Link assailed this new desire mercilessly, beating it until it was just a whisper in his mind, but still it remained, whispering.

Without noticing, his feet had carried him to the Sparring Hall, and he smiled grimly when he saw the tear shining above him in midair, just out of reach. This was the perfect place to fight his temptation away for good. Working in spurts to avoid the circling Watcher, Link pulled at a crate nearby until he was beneath the tear, then climbed atop it and clenched the light in his fist.

_A sword flashed for Link's face and he reacted on instinct, only realizing he held a shield when Ghirahim's rapier bounced harmlessly away. He had only a moment to marvel at the fact that he held a sword as well—wasn't he supposed to be defenseless?—before Ghirahim attacked again, and he was forced to defend._

_They fought in silence for many minutes, the clash of sword on sword the only conversation between them. The demon had dispensed with the bulky cloak, clad only in the strange pale garment that clung tightly to his muscled frame. At first Link felt vulnerable without Fi there for guidance, but he found to his growing satisfaction that he didn't need it here. Everything Fi had ever had to indicate to him through subtle vibrations or chimes or her cool monotonous voice, he could now determine with a mere glance. Eventually, he even grew confident enough in his abilities to go on the offense. Snaking his sword behind Ghirahim's—experience had taught that the demon was especially skilled in parrying a misplaced strike with brute force—Link managed a scraping blow to Ghirahim's side that sparked a flurry of diamonds. Eyes widening, Ghirahim snapped his fingers, disappearing, and Link sprinted forward. He'd faced this trick before. Ghirahim landed from the ceiling mere inches behind him, sword driving into the ground, and Link rounded on him before he could pull free, landing a flurry of blows that sent more diamonds flying. Wrenching the sword up at last, Ghirahim skipped backwards… and smiled._

" _Feels good, doesn't it?" he purred, lunging forward once more, and Link caught the blow on his shield._

" _What does?" he grunted. The last thing he wanted was to engage the demon in conversation, but if it managed to distract his opponent it would be worth it._

" _Fighting under your own power." A line of daggers appeared before Ghirahim with a snap, and went shooting towards Link. With a precise arc of his sword, Link sent them flying back, and Ghirahim grunted as they met their mark. "No voices or intermediaries in the way. Just you and me, and our skill with the sword."_

_It did feel good, but Link refused to admit it. Ghirahim took a bracing step back, and was suddenly barreling down on Link, moving impossibly fast, sword raised for an attack. Link waited for just the right moment before raising his shield to meet the blow, pushing forward and knocking Ghirahim off balance with the force of his own attack. He managed to land several hits before Ghirahim was able to retreat, stumbling back warily._

_Link's memories of his previous battles with Ghirahim were of nicks and scrapes and bare escapes, and blows that were only half a second from missing. Fi did the best she could guide his attacks and Link's own honed senses and nimble reflexes made up the rest, but this was almost easy. He'd never felt so sure of himself with a sword, and to feel that way against Ghirahim of all people… it was intoxicating._

" _I_ _t would be worth it, wouldn't it?" Ghirahim asked, circling him. Link circled right along with him, not allowing Ghirahim a chance at his back or sides. "To be able to fight like this?"_

" _Worth what? Allowing Demise to revive or the seal to fail? Letting Zelda die?" Link retorted. "What's the point of seeing if all you can do is watch your world burn?"_

" _Are those the only two paths you're capable of seeing? The Triforce or death?" Ghirahim struck out suddenly with his sword, sneaking beneath Link's defenses, and Link jumped back with a grunt as the blow nicked the top of his leg. Real or not, it hurt. "There's more than one way to defeat an enemy, child, and more than one enemy to face. Or do you think I'll take the death of my master quietly?"_

" _I…" Link hadn't thought much beyond the Triforce, and Demise's defeat. That was enough for any one person to deal with. He supposed Ghirahim_ **_would_ ** _be after revenge once he realized what Link had done. "I'll deal with it when it happens."_

" _You'll die when it happens," Ghirahim said flatly, lashing out again, but this time Link blocked it. "You have some skill with that sword, boy, but I think you know how easily I can surprise you when the need arises."_

" _I've beaten you before," Link growled, pressing his advantage by striking with his own sword, but Ghirahim caught it between his fingers and thrust it to the side, and it was all Link could do to maintain his grip on the hilt. "Besides, you're not the type to fight dirty. You may be a demon, but you have_ **_some_ ** _sense of honor."_

" _You think me so predictable, do you?" Ghirahim laughed, disappearing in a flood of diamonds, and Link took off sprinting. However, rather than attacking behind him, Ghirahim appeared right in front of him, sword raised, and Link had to reel back to avoid running into him, barely raising his shield in time. "I prefer not to rely on my enemy's mercy, but maybe that's just me."_

" _This is pointless!" Link said, backing up angrily. "I'm done arguing. I'm using my wish to defeat Demise, and that's the end of it!"_

" _Fine," Ghirahim shrugged, snapping to produce another line of daggers that circled lazily in the air. "It's no real concern to me how you choose to throw away your life. But don't fool yourself into thinking that defeating Demise with the Triforce will be an end to the violence. There will be fighting either way, boy. I'm simply offering you a way to survive." Without warning, the daggers shot in a straight line aimed directly at his heart._

He drew a breath. Five tears down. Over halfway there. Rounding the bridge that took him behind the bazaar, he found an arc of stepping stones across a pond that glimmered blue and red, with a shining tear at the end. Link took extra care as he jumped from stone to stone, even though he'd done this over a hundred times before. One drop of that water against his skin would awaken the Guardians as surely as if a Watcher had spotted him. He might be able to outrun them, at least for a little while, but if he fell in the water itself he'd never outswim the ones that could fly.

Finally, his feet landed on firm soil. The tear sparkled within reach, and Link reluctantly bent to grab it. Could he defeat Demise on his own, if it came down to it?

_Skyloft was on fire. Reeling from the unexpected chaos, Link turned helplessly, watching clouds of black smoke rise above flames that licked the air, devouring the only home he'd ever known. In the distance he heard a scream, but from where he stood there was nobody to be seen. Where were the townsfolk? How many had escaped on their Loftwings, and how many were…_

" _Link." In the midst of all this chaos he had expected to see Ghirahim, but it was Zelda who met him, face cold and otherworldly in the harsh light of the flames. She stood tall, impervious to the fire that raged around her, blue eyes lit like an avenging goddess. Not a speck of ash or dirt marred her pristine visage._

" _What is this?" Link asked nervously, taken aback by the foreign gaze in his best friend's eyes. He knew on some level that Zelda had awoken the memories of the goddess within her… but how much of who he faced now was goddess, and how much Zelda?_

" _A world where you fail, and Demise wins." Link flinched, not sure if he had imagined the note of accusation in her voice. "If Demise is allowed to succeed, he will show no mercy for any of the goddess’s children. He is a creature of darkness and cruelty, and delights only in pain. Some will survive, and envy the dead." She eyed him appraisingly. "I do not know which group you will fall into. The blade could fall either way."_

" _So…" Link licked his lips. "So this is the only way? Either I wish for the end of Demise… or the world ends?"_

" _Does it matter?" Zelda asked, a hint of incredulity breaking through her cool mask. "There's always a chance that you could defeat Demise, but what measure of risk would be acceptable to you, when the alternative to victory is_ **_this_** _?" The building nearest them collapsed in a shower of smoke and debris, emphasizing her point._

_Link flushed at her response, part anger, part shame. She was right, of course. It wasn't fair, but life never was. Still, he hated himself for wishing she could give him some of Fi's percentages to make his choice. Did Demise have an eighty percent chance of victory, or five? What level of risk would tip the balance in his mind?_

" _Maybe I did choose wrong," Zelda said, and Link froze. It was 'Father, I don't think he can do it' all over again, but worse now that the words carried divine condemnation. "The Link I thought I knew would not hesitate so."_

" _How many times," Link growled, glaring at Zelda—no, not Zelda, just a vision that wore her face and stole her voice, though that was increasingly hard to remember. "How many times do I have to prove myself before it's enough for you? Do you have any idea what I've gone through, trying to save you? While you've been_ **_sleeping_** _? I'll do what needs to be done, but don't you dare condemn me for wishing there was another way."_

" _I_ _t is not my condemnation you need fear, but his." Zelda gestured, and Link noticed the darkness gathering behind her, taking form. Two red slits of flame opened from the depths of it, narrowing at the sight of him, and a terrible laughter had him clutching his ears even as darkness enveloped all._

The tear sank into the vessel, though it brought him no joy. He felt sick with anger. _It's not Zelda_ , he reminded himself… but it was the goddess, in some form or another. It was the goddess who had set this trial for him, who forced him to prove again and again that he was the appointed hero. The goddess who had given him this choice to make in the first place. He had never resented his destiny so much as he did in that moment. Was Zelda right? Had he changed?

Two tears remained. Giving the pond a wide berth, Link ran along the edge until he found what he was looking for—a blue tear surrounded by four Watchers, diving in and out in an intricate, unvarying pattern. The light of their lanterns gathered and spread across the ground, leaving momentary gaps that quickly filled in again. He would have only a second to run across, and another second to get out. That was the most crucial part. If he was caught leaving, it would be a race to the graveyard and the final tear. Whatever this vision held in store, he had to be ready to vault into motion if he hoped to avoid the lights.

Watching the Watchers to make sure he had their pattern down, Link waited for the perfect moment and jumped, grabbing the tear, preparing his momentum for the leap out, and—

 _He stood at the edge of a cliff, vast expanses of sand spreading before him. It took only a moment to recognize the land as Lanayru, the desert that had once held an ocean. It was with an odd sense of relief that he saw Ghirahim perched before him instead of Zelda, glancing back at his arrival. Odd and disconcerting—he had never once felt relief as a result of Ghirahim's presence. However, both demon and desert faded in importance when he finally caught sight of the_ **_sky_** _._

" _Wha…"_

" _I thought you'd say that," Ghirahim said, gesturing elegantly at the ground beside him. "Sit before you fall on your face. I promise not to bite. For now."_

_Link sat without thinking, too caught up in staring to consider his own safety. The sun hovered on the edge of the horizon, a blazing ball of fire so red that he could barely tear his eyes away. Streaks of vivid color slashed across the sky, rich hues weaving and mixing in so many combinations they couldn't possibly all have names. How could there be so many colors in the world? How did people talk about anything else, when colors like these existed?_

" _Lanayru has the most exquisite sunsets," Ghirahim remarked, though he barely paid the sky a glance in favor of staring at Link. "The dust in the air scatters the light, and… ah, it's too complicated for you to understand. I thought I would show this to you at least once, since I think you will not see it again."_

" _I thought you were supposed to be convincing me otherwise?" Link said, staring steadily ahead. He refused to cry over this again. It seemed that he'd shed enough tears over the Silent Realms to refill this ocean._

" _Do you want me to convince you otherwise?"_

" _Could you promise me that everything would turn out okay if you did?" He knew the answer, of course, even before Ghirahim threw back his head and laughed._

" _Oh, sky child," he chortled fondly. "Even the spirit maiden can't promise you_ **_that_** _."_

_A comfortable silence fell over them, with Link enraptured by the sky's subtly shifting gradients and the ever sinking sun. He'd heard enough stories to know that watching the sunset with someone was supposed to be romantic. Strange that he should share the experience with a manifestation of Ghirahim, of all people. The real demon would likely run him through with a sword if he ever heard about it._

" _Who are you?" Link asked finally. The sun had fallen even lower, a mere bump above the horizon, and he knew his time was almost up. A strange calm had fallen over him, and he was ready to face the end of this trial. "This can't all have come from my mind. I don't know that much."_

" _A relief to hear you admit it," Ghirahim quipped. "The trials draw from your mind and heart, but also from reality and the physical realm, and the knowledge of the goddess herself. As for who I am… temptation is perhaps a good way to describe myself, and I'll leave it to you to figure out why_ **_that_ ** _is." He smirked. "I suppose if any good has come of this, it's that you can finally see me in all my exquisite glory." The demon gestured dramatically, preening, and Link's mouth quirked despite himself._

" _So no more self-indulgent visits at night to allow me to… appreciate you?"_

" _Well now," the demon said as the sun disappeared below the horizon. "That's something I simply cannot guarantee."_

Link was ready. Vaulting forward, he slipped between the Watcher's lights with less than a second to spare, and the blue light of the tear followed his flight. _Enough of this_. He could see the necessity of these trials now—even _he_ hadn't known how strongly tempted he would be—but it was time to bury them once and for all.

A Watcher paced the entry to the graveyard, and Link knew he'd have no chance but to pass beneath its light. He readied himself to run once more, mentally saying farewell to his home. Regret welled up inside him—he still hadn't seen the halls of the school, or the floating falls, or the Statue of the Goddess up close—but if he had to accept his limitations, he would do it wholeheartedly. Memories of sight always faded with the trials, as if his mind was incapable of holding any image within, but he could remember the _feel_ of what he saw. That would have to be enough.

He stepped into the Watcher's light, and it let out a terrifying screech, waking the world with its cry. Link didn't stand around to watch. Ignoring the sudden pounding of his heart, he ran forward, not looking back, dodging rocks and gravestones and reaching out his hand for the final tear of light.

_Link stood in darkness, not as if he couldn't see the world around him, but more that there was nothing to see. To his right stood Zelda, smiling but sad, clad in the simple white dress of the Goddess. In her hands was a blindfold, held aloft for him to take. Turning to his left he found Ghirahim, the ever-present quirk of his lips absent. Wordlessly, he offered him a sword. The choice could not have been clearer: to see and fight, and put his trust in strength… or to accept._

_Finally, the last of his resistance faded, and Link made the only possible choice. With a wry smile, he walked towards Zelda. The figure of Ghirahim faded from sight, vanishing completely as he stood in front of his old friend._

" _Is it necessary?" he asked. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, which struck him as funny. His were completely dry._

" _I would not ask this of you if it were not," she promised, and he bowed his head, falling to one knee. With trembling hands, she affixed the blindfold around his eyes, cutting off the sight of her forever. When she finished, her hands stayed on his head. "In exchange for your sacrifice, I bless you with aid when you need it most. I cannot fight your battles for you, but if the worst comes to pass, you will not be left sightless."_

_Link didn't understand, but he nodded anyway. He thought he felt her lips press against his forehead, and then her presence vanished. The final tear hummed as it entered the vessel of his spirit, and Link rose one final time, swallowed in the light._

"Congratulations master. You have passed all of the trials." Fi's silvery voice and the return of the breeze and ambient noise of Skyloft told him he was back. After everything he'd just been through, it felt too mundane to be real.

The world was dark once more, as he knew it would remain.

Link shifted to stand, his muscles stiff and protesting after sitting for so long, and paused as he felt something pressed against his eyes. The blindfold. He deliberated for a moment, but decided to keep it on. If it had carried over into the physical realm, there had to be a reason. Besides, wearing it reminded him that his blindness was now a personal choice, and not just something fate had thrust upon him. It made a difference, thinking of it like that.

There was something else he'd received from the trial, he realized, passing the small object between his hands.

"Fi, what's this?"

"The stone of trials. The item you just obtained is actually one of a pair, Master. Another similar object with a mark just like the one you hold exists somewhere on this island. Combining the two should open the way to the Triforce." She paused. "I suggest you enlist the help of somebody more visually inclined to search for that matching stone."

Link couldn't help himself—he threw back his head and laughed. It felt good.


End file.
